Time Dragon
by OlGaME
Summary: Evelyn winston-king, daughter of an archaeologist, finds a green rock. Somehow she is transported through time and space to help fight a war, but she soon finds it is not that simple, and in fact there are greater forces at work. OC/Murtagh
1. A Prologue and a Meeting with an Evelyn

A. Now I did rewrite this I added a little more detail, mostly on things that will happen later on and more Evie/Murtagh interactions.

B. I have decided to make my story happen right after the 3 book. So if have not read it I'm sorry. But in all honesty you haven't missed a thing. If you want to know what happened to go on wiki they will give a summary of it.

C. I hope the grammar is all good

D. I know this plot is cheesy and way over done but this is my take on it

E. This girl may be a little mary sue but I tried to make her so she wasn't

F**. if you like the story but think it could be better I'm open for ideas**.

G. reviews are always nice

H. I don't own Murtagh Eragon Arya Galbatorix Angela or anyone else of that sort.

I. Eaodrial is pronounced Eh oh dree all

**SUMMARY** Evelyn Winston-King, daughter of a British archaeologist, finds a green rock at her father's dig. Somehow she is transported through time and space to help fight a war she has nothing to do with, but she soon finds it is not that simple, and in fact there are greater forces at work. OC/M

here goes... olgame

* * *

!PROLOGUE!

The leaves were changing, dying, as they always do in the fall. Animals were sparsely seen. If they were, they were finding last-minute food before their long four-month sleep.

The air was still warm, it was only early October, but still the people of the Varden and Surda could be seen preparing themselves for the cold. It would be easy to assume that no battle would be fought in the coming winter months but it would be unwise to not be prepared for it.

Two months. It has been two months since the Siege of Feinster. Two months since the death of Oromis and Glaedr, at the hands of Murtagh.

It had angered Eragon that his so-called brother could have allowed this; Galbatorix's use of his body to kill. Eragon could not understand it. He said before he understood the workings of a True Name but he does not, because he cannot appreciate what Murtagh has gone through. He does not truly understand the depth and meaning of it and therefore does not understand how hard it could be to _not_ allow these things from happening.

Two months passed with little effort on each side. There was the occasional attack; each army would ambush the passing one. Each side thought the other was planning something.

It was nearing the end of this dreary two-month period that a Halfling was found wandering just south of Helgrind. Roran Garrowsson found him, cousin of the great Eragon Shadeslayer, on one of his many assault missions on the Empire. The Halfling spoke of the last egg, the green egg, the egg that would finally even out the playing field should the Varden take it. He spoke of a place hidden so well that he merely stumbled on it by accident and so well guarded, by loyal legion, the Black Hand and the terrible Murtagh Morzansson and his great red dragon, that he would have been killed had he not been any less careful. _Past Dras-Leona_ he said _in a pit so dark that light itself would extinguish, enveloped in darkness. _

It was decided then this would the Varden's chance. A mission company was made; Eragon and his great blue dragon Saphira Bjartskulr, the twelve elven spellweavers, including Arya and three best fighters of each race, left to steal the stone. In which were; Roran a man, Garzhvog an Urgal, Durnark a dwarf and Trianna the leader of Du Vrangr Gata.

The plan would have gone successful. The fight was immense, many died. The great dragons of their time, Saphira and Thorn, fought in the air roaring above the heads the fighter below. With immense force Saphira took hold of her opponent and threw him to the ground violently. Thorn's body crashed into the chamber's walls, causing them to tumble to the ground, allowing Eragon slip in and take the egg.

But he did not do so unnoticed; unfortunately his great opponent, his own brother, Murtagh followed him. The two fought with words; pleading the other to leave for they wished no harm on the other. As Eragon attempted to leave and Murtagh forced by vow could not allow this, a swordfight broke out and Murtagh had so cruelly dislocated Eragon's shoulder to disable him so he would not have to kill his brother. Roran came to Eragon's aide while Murtagh was not paying attention. Roran sliced off the tip of his ring finger on his right hand.

This loss of the tip of his finger is a feature that he shares with his father; Morzan. The reason for this is unknown, though many scholars and historians believe it was most likely cut off during a battle or, as was often then, cut off because he was caught stealing.

Still, it angered Murtagh that he should bare the same resemblance as his father, even if it was just the loss of a finger.

In the brief moment of pain Eragon jolted Murtagh back with magic and Roran and he fled with the green egg. There was no way for Eragon to escape and his main objective was to secure the egg in the hands of the Varden. If he escaped it would leave the chance that the egg could end up with Galbatorix and the war would be one to three. So he took the egg and sent it to the egg to the Varden with magic.

But it did not make it there.

Eragon did escape, as did his entire company, though many were severely hurt. For the next week the Varden and the Empire searched. Searched for the egg or if it had come to this…the dragon and its rider.

But the egg was neither in Alagaësia nor even across the sea in Alalëa.

Chapter One : Evie

I like to say that I've matured from all this and that I've come to terms with it too, I hope. What Eaodrial did is… logical and I never thought I could forgive her. It's just… _hard_. Being taken away from my home with out any explanation was one thing but forcing me to go back home after everything I did for her and her world… after meeting those people. I wonder sometimes what would happen if I never went or if I had a choice… I'd probably not go.

I suppose it would help if I said a few things about myself. I don't like chocolate ice cream, in fact I don't really like chocolate in the first place, I'll eat it but doesn't mean I have to like it.

Ok, I guess that was a little useless fact but it is true.

I am average. Indeed, quite simple and average and I liked it like that; there was no pressure. I didn't excel at anything and nothing was my forte so I never had to better myself to stay top-game. Nor did I fail anything so, again I never had to strive to stay on top. I'm not saying I am lazy or stupid, like I said; I am average.

However, I am good at something, well two things; I am very fast. There is no room for modesty. I am fast. I am dangerously wicked in running. I am so, so, so grateful for my speed. Had I _any_ idea how much it would come in hand in my near future… I am also quite witty and clever and always know what to say at times. But in physical situations, sticky and sudden situations, I am a total loss.

I've been home now for 20 years and I decided now is the time to write this out before I forget. I find that, as I'm writing, everything is coming back so vividly and I feel a little home sick, really.

I come from an odd situation; I never really grew up in one place, I've got duel citizenship. My mum is an American nurse and my dad, an archeologist, comes from a fairly wealthy British family. I can't say that my dad's family was jumping with joy when he announced his impending marriage, but then again I wouldn't know; I wasn't born at the time.

They accepted me, in fact they love me, my grand mother absolutely adores me and dotes on me the most and I, shamefully, rub it in my cousins' faces.

I was born in Brighton, East Sussex, on December 24 1971, without any allergies and deformations, perfectly healthy and beautiful baby girl. All of my relatives, mostly my aunts, wanted to eat me; _oh you're so cute I could munch you up like a raspberry pie!_ But, hey, I liked the attention.

My mum, Susan King, was 28 when she gave birth to me. I look more her than my dad but I have his dark, rich brow eyes, mum has blue eyes.

Mum's beautiful and I totally get why dad fell for her. She was average height with black hair and crazy blue eyes. We share the same thin nose, heart shape face and our long dark eyelashes. My favorite part of her was her eyes. She also had this dark freckle above her eyebrow, it always reminded me of an eyebrow pricing.

However, to my grandmother's grand pride, I inherited the _Winston lip,_ which consists of my lower lip being considerably smaller than my upper. This was my least favorite part of me; it made me look like a duck.

Well, actually there are lots of things I don't like about me but I'm sure that's the case for everyone, for instance I wish my shoulders were a bit wider and my boobs, they could be a little bigger. Maybe then I'll get a guy. But story is not about my body parts.

Anyway, my father, being an archeologist traveled a lot, and I mean a lot. So mum and me where left alone…at the mercy of my grandmother, her friends and relatives. As I said they didn't approve of mum, Gran's friends didn't like her because they wanted dad to marry _their_ daughter. I suppose you could say mum couldn't take it anymore and with dad gone there was no one to defend her so she moved back home and asked for a divorce. Dad was upset, _but if that's she wants_, he said.

So there I bid farewell to my English home and moved to the States. We moved into a loft, which I thought was so cool. Just like the movies. I kept my accent was a homage to my old life and my new American friends thought I was so cool and exotic besides it was a good conversation starter but slowly my accent fused an American accent, so have this weird thick hybrid thing, I like though, it makes me different.

Still kept in touch with Gran, dad and everyone. I would take vacations back home and sometimes I could bring friends. The family house amazed them mostly because we had butlers. The best part they said, were the Polo players.

My Gran tried to set me up with wealthy and respectable men of good family. Most of them are, evidently, Polo players. I'm not saying that they aren't handsome because they were. Oh my god the most beautiful men, like the ones in magazines. Tall, dark, handsome with clear soft skin and sexy eyes and a smirk that could kill.

Most were nice and good-natured but some were a tad overconfident about them selves and their family tree. That's everything about them; family lineage and money. I don't know what it is but I haven't found the _right one_ yet.

It's not like I repel them immediately it's just happens slowly and with mutual respect. Even though I'm going to inherit dad's cash and Gran's and I came from a very good family, I think it never works because of my trashy behavior. Growing up at an American public school I haven't grown up as elegant as the girls who went to posh schools, that and my hybrid accent are some of the things Gran is trying to grow out of me.

I kept in touch with my dad by letters. I would hear his stories all the time of his adventures. I love hearing them but having to be in those situations scare me, I've learnt a lot from those stories. Besides his letters, he has always been there on every special occasion. One birthday he bought me a little compass with slips onto your watch wrist, it's a useless gift but it comes in handy whenever I'm curious about which way I'm headed.

One birthday I got a beautiful black Chanel dress for Josie's wedding. My dad married again. He thought that I would be angry with him for ditching us but I wasn't in fact I was happy for him besides I've been setting mum up with single men for the past while now, or at least trying.

One year I got a moped and went across Europe with a few friends, not on the same moped of course. But the best birthday gift I got was on my 18th birthday, well it's kind of a birthday/graduation gift; dad booked a plane for me to come and spend the summer with him on one of him expeditions.

I can't say where exactly the dig was because I'm geographically impaired, I think that's why dad got me the compass, but I know the nearest and biggest city is south of the camp, you can see it as a dark bump in the horizon and we are some where in the desert.

There are two ways to get to the dig, camel; the slower and cheap way or jeep faster but expensive. I went by camel with some of the workers, dad was going to come by camel but Josie didn't want to ride in the jeep alone and encouraged him not to, saying camels spit.

I can ride a horse so riding a camel wasn't too hard. When I got there my tent was made up and I fell asleep as soon as my head hit the pillow.

My name, by the way, is Evelyn Winston-King but most call me Evie or Eve or Evo or whatever comes to mind.

* * *

The hot sun pelted on the backs of those unfortunate enough to have to work in the sun. The small cluster of tents gave little, if any comfort to the lucky ones on break. Standing by one of the holes, a tall, erect woman was fighting with her grey streaked hair into a ponytail.

"I don't see why you don't just cut your hair? It's so much easier to manage," a shorter girl, Evelyn, asked Josie with her hands on her hips.

"Yes, well unlike you I don't have such beautiful features; I was graced with these manly ones. One only thing that keeps me looking like a woman is the fact I have long hair." The taller woman answered bitterly.

Evelyn attempted to change the subject by asking, "Josie, have you found anything yet?"

"Yeah, hardly worth anything, just small trinkets, cracked pottery, few coins and an old canon bomb, but it's not like we haven't got enough of those."

A young dark skinned boy came running over to us and stopped in front of me and said in a thick accent, "yo fatha come, he see yo now. He say fast, hurry fast."

Evie hurried, jogging, over to the tent her father was living in, it was larger than most of the diggers tents, though most of them sleep out side, under the stars, but smaller than the artifacts tent.

"Father? You wanted to see me?"

"Ah Evie, how was your day?" he took off his readers to see her better.

"Long and hot. We've hardly found any thing." She explained though I knew he already knew.

"Yes well, after last week, when we found the gate base, I was certain things would diminish in excitement but, yes, I had hoped we would have found a little more than nothing. But never lose hope," he poked he lightly in the shoulder with his readers and smiled.

"You could tell that to Josie, she's so bitter, even the workers know it and they don't speak our langue."

"Please Evie, how many times must I ask you to not call her that? She's your mother and-"

"Dad, she's my step-mum, I can't call her that." _It's weird._

He stopped and nodded his head understandingly, "I understand, no on can replace her but try and make an effort to be nice, civil at most," he joked.

"It'll be hard…" he gave me a parental scolding look, "fine, yes."

"Yes dad, I love you."

"_Yes dad, I love you."_ I repeated, rolling my eyes.

There was a commotion outside caught both their attention. There were hardly was uproar like, unless it was lunchtime, so this must be something big. The possibilities of what could happen ran through her mind.

_Did someone find something? Is it valuable? __No we never find any thing __valuable__**.**__ What if someone fainted? What if they had died from exhaustion? Or died in a collapse?_

A low horn interrupted her train of thoughts. It sounded again. Evelyn has never been quick on her feet, mind wise that is, she really is, actually, quite fast, but in any situation where she's just caught off guard she freezes up. Not till the third sound of the horn did she force myself to move, followed the herd and dad to the spot of interest. She felt an odd forbidding feeling, something bad. She rubbed her temple _Maybe someone is hurt_.

Weaving in and out of on looking workers to stand by her father, who was down on one knee holding his hands out into the pit in front of them, to his left was Josie waving her hand into front of her face to cool her herself down, not bothering to show any interest. Evelyn frowned at her, how could she be so calm? Someone could be baby hurt and she's just standing there without a care in the world.

"Are you okay? You look little white there. Seen a ghost?" Josie commented.

Ignoring her, Eve leaned forward to get a better look into the pit dug out by workers. Inside a few men holding their shovels lined the walls of the hole and waited calmly as one elderly man, who had his back to the rest of them, was fumbling with something in the corner.

When the man turned his dark, sun-tanned face, she was relieved to see no injuries and no marks of pain but rather green rock that was covered in crusty mud, dirt, sand and whatever other debris found the desert. She let out a deep, thankful sigh.

The man took off his clumsy turban and warped it around the rock carefully as his could and handed it to the shaking hands of her father. He was softly bushing the clumps of dirt off with his thumb as his daughter and the crowd leaned in awed by the sparkling sight.

Evie had a strange urge to touch the beautiful rock and all its entire splendor and she half mindedly held out my hand. Her finger tips barely grazed it when a blinding light and an image of what she thought was person flashed through her entire vision then returning to the normal light of the desert and crowd of people. She recoiled her hand quickly form the shock. Dad and a few other people stared at her for an answer to for my display.

"The rock, dry mud, it's sharp, I pricked my finger." She lied. She must be light headed that would explain the light.

* * *

"Have you found out what it is?" Evelyn met up with her father in his tent. She went to her tent first and washed her hands and drank some water, trying to get the sight out of her mind. The green rock lay on a makeshift bed of pillows and quilts, so it couldn't be damaged. She let her fingers hover over the rock but not touching it, too afraid of something happening again.

It was late now and the warm air started to cool fast. The sparse suns rays flittered though the tents fabric but did not give enough light so little lanterns and wax candles provided where the sun could not. In this dim light the green rock's sparkle was more eerie which was nurturing Evie discomfort to the rock.

"No I haven't, but it is hard, I tell you, hardest thing I have ever felt," her father replied shaking his head.

"It isn't a diamond? Is it?" I asked still fixed on it. Of course it wasn't, it was as tall as her forearm, no diamond is that big. She hated it when she spoke before thinking.

"See that's the thing…" he said as he began to walk around his desk waving his chubby finger at the rock, "I've checked every where, my books, my notes, called your uncle, I even called my old professor down at Oxford, said I was _mad to have found something like this, harder than diamond_ he laughed. You know I worked with my share of diamonds," he smiled and patted his blotted belly, feeling all proud of himself, "and I tell you, I have never felt any thing like it." He began to stride back to his desk and sit down.

"So… it's not one of King Mundar's five diamond eggs?" he shook his head in response. She admitted she was little disappointed they had not found what he'd been searching for so long but still was excited and intrigued by the new mystery.

"Bring the egg here, will you dear." He asked as he began to write in his red notebook. She hesitated and looked at him but he was already focused on his work. She really did not want to be shocked again. She thought of grabbing it quickly and tossing it to her father but didn't because it would break. She closed her eyes and swiftly grazed one finger across it. Nothing. She placed her whole hand on it. Still nothing. Deeming it safe she carefully took the rock and brought to her father.

I must have been dreaming, she thought, an illusion of dehydration that all it was.

"See here," he pointed to small lines on the rock, "they look like little veins, yes? And this material, it's smooth and velvet like." He stopped and looked up at the roof of his tent, pondering.

"It feels like… like skin, human skin but stretched across too much bone, you understand?"

She gave him a questioning glance. "No."

"Blasted child," he cried out waving his hands out in frustration. "The only other thing I could compare it to is the wing skin of a bat, but that's only how it looks!"

It was true, the rock did have a thin membrane look of a bats wing and the little vein like things only made it appear so more. She bent down to face it, _What _are_ you? _She mused to herself.

After a long discussion with her father; mostly about this new, mysterious green rock, she headed to her tent for some much needed sleep. It was cold outside, possibly the coldest night so far on their expedition.

She wrapped herself up in long underwear, sweatpants, big socks, her old ratty, plain, grey tank top, and her blue hoody. Slipping under the covers of her cot_ and _putting on her glasses and picking up the book that lay beside her cot she decided I would read till she fell asleep, like she always does.

The last thing of earth that she can clearly remember from that night was looking up to the bright full moon sitting in the clear sky. She tilted her head to the right to see the little lopsided rabbit on the face of the moon. _Good night Mr. Hare__._ She kissed the air in his direction.

* * *

Searing pain ripped through her chest. That is what she felt first. Sitting up gasping for air, she had to grope around for the lamp. _Can't breathe… "__Help"_ she hardly managed, so quietly no one would have heard.

She fell out of her cot and onto the hard ground. Her chest began to tighten more and more, and started to lose feeling, cold, ice-like tingles starting in her toes crept up her limbs and felt extremely lightheaded. '_Dad'_, she gasped as I tumbled to the ground but tired to lift herself up with the help of her side table but it fell over from her weight and landed on her, the wood corner jabbing her side.

_I'm having a heart, __gasp__, attack…_The edges of her vision became blurry and faded until it sight was gone. _"Help"_ she tired one last time.

* * *

_A woman with curly brown hair lay sleeping in her bed abruptly sat up in a cold sweat. She faced the darkness and in a shaky voice spoke_

"_Solembum it's happened. They have come."_

_

* * *

_

* * *

Any questions? Because I can answer them :)

Next chapter will be up in an hour or 2.


	2. Slavers in the Hadarac

Chapter Two : Slavers

Light shone through her closed eyelids. One side of her face was warm and the other side, cooler. The cooler side was on the soft ground it felt like sand. Evelyn opened her eyes, squinting several times to adjust her eyes to the light, all she saw was sand. Evelyn craned her neck up to see over the neighboring dune. _Where am I?_

Though she had the worst headache, her current position was very comfortable, the suns rays were the perfect temperature, for now, and the sand was abnormally soft, it cradled her like an old, handmade blanket.

She stood up and shielded her eyes from the sun, all there was to see was sand, miles and miles of yellow dunes of sand. Nothing was in sight; her father's dig was nowhere to be seen.

She thought, at first, maybe she sleepwalked but when she looked around her she saw no tracks but was foolish for think that; how could she have walked so far from the camp?

She looked down again and kicked up some lose sand and uncovered her glasses. As she bent down to pick them up she remembered her attack.

"Where am I?" she asked herself, fear lined her voice. "Have I died?"

_This would be a strange heaven,_ a cool breeze flowed around her ankle and kicked up lose sand_, …or hell._ She shivered at the thought.

She turned to the sunrise, to the east, it looked like a great Shirley Temple had been spilled into the sky. She was thankful to at least know a direction, though it didn't do her much good.

Evelyn turned away from the sunrise and walked farther up the sand dune, this side of the sky was dark blue and her face immediately felt the lack of sun and the cool breeze on her face. At the top, she looked across the horizon for anything and to her joy there was a little dark bump. _It's the camp, it has to be_. She glanced down at her watch on her left arm, the watch said; 5:41 am. She frowned at it, the time didn't feel right. She tapped the stupid thing with her fingernail and waited the hands didn't budge, so she held it to her ear for a small ticking noise but nothing sounded.

"Stupid cheap little fake." She grumbled and awkwardly set down the hill, the lose sand shifted under her feet and made her slide more than once. A friend back home, in America got it for her from a toy vending machine when the two went to the mall. It was yellow with Pikachu on the face of the watch and said Pokémon on the thick, plastic wristbands.

And from that she headed towards the black mass, the camp, she assured herself, starting with one socked foot at a time, which after a few minutes she took off.

It was late afternoon now the shadows began to get longer towards the east and. When the sun hit its peak Evelyn was soaked in sweat, it dibbled slowly and uncomfortably down the base of her neck and down her back. Quickly she started peeling off layers, her sweater and sweat pants were wrapped up on her head in a makeshift turban to keep the sun out of her face and the rays from burning her scalp. So she was left in her tank top and old long underwear, which was rolled up to her knees.

She tugged at her top on her to encourage airflow and blew cold air from her lungs down her shirt. Her armpits became increasingly wet and difficult and she wiped away the sweat with the arm of her sweater. "God, that's gross," she moaned to the air the first time she did it, but it felt so good.

Her paced had slowed down considerably too, and she was, in a way dragging herself along. Her back was hunched over and her arms simply danged at her sides.

She was starving, and hadn't eaten anything and there was no food to eat out here in the desert. She was cramping up and it hurt to walk. Quickly she became lightheaded from the heat and lack of water and food and fell over and over but forced to pick herself up again and move along.

Evie's lips became chapped and blistered and she up licking her because they hurt so much, and breathing agitated them even more so. She tried give up breathing through her mouth altogether and breath with her nose but the hot air wouldn't allow it.

The sun had to be four maybe three hours away from setting, the air cooled quickly, as it does in deserts and was extremely relieving on her skin. She lifted her head, and her neck cracked in protest from being in one position all day. She raised a hand to massage it but stopped the moment she felt the burn on her neck. She moaned in annoyance "Figures."

She turned around, avoiding any moment to just her neck, to see the distance she made but looking back she saw yellow dunes, everything looked the same, everything was the same. She could have walked miles or just a few feet it all looked the same. It didn't matter, the black mass on the horizon was still the same, no closer or farther.

Little out in the distance was something that looked like a tree and bushes. She begged it not to be a mirage, pleading, justifying she was in too weak a state for that. She begged for water and food.

She began to speed up a little to a light shaky jog and finally reached a small pond surrounded by bushes and a small, sad looking palm tree that were all hardly thriving off the small amount of water. Discarding her turban she ran up to the pond and drank from it and splashed it on her face and body and running it through her hair. She sighed loudly and comically. She soaked her socks in the water and stuck them to her back, cooling down her sunburn. The water was nice and smooth, unlike the hot, sticky sweat she was forced to deal with all day.

She nearly felt bad, for a moment, intruding in on this small, pitiful oasis. She felt like she was stealing the plant's water, she silently thanked it and then felt extremely silly for thanking a bush for letting her drink _its _pond.

Evie sat there with her feet in the water chewing on small red berries, grass and bush leaves that surrounded it. She had cleverly made a bag out of her hoodie, tying the torso hole shut, using the neck hole as the top opening and using the arms as straps and hung it across her chest, like a messenger bag. She stuffed her other clothes and glasses in there so she wouldn't have to carry them in her hands.

She smiled at herself and her work proudly. Leaning back with her feet still in the cool pond, she focused on the sky, it was a dark blue, with speckles of pink and orange to the west. A red sparkle caught her eye.

She sat up and moved outside of the sheltered perimeter of the oasis. She squinted and focused on the 'sparkle'. It looked more like a plane than anything, a red plane flying by. This was her chance and she would let it get away.

She picked up her pack and made out for the open space and waited till they got closer. She waited for what seemed forever, her eyes never leaving the plane, her anticipation rising to a boiling point.

Then the wings of the plane moved, in a flapping movement. Her face dropped at the surprise. The wings moved again. She took a step back.

It got closer, and bigger and redder. A weird feeling went through her, like a self-induced panic. The feeling moved her to hide from whatever it was. The urge was stronger than any other caution her conscience told her to take before, more like an outside force. She slowly ducked and crawled back and hid in the dense bush.

Pushing back a few branches, just enough to see and follow the red plane, she watched it pass by. It came closer and closer, her breathing became harder and harder. It was a dragon. She couldn't close her eyes or take them off the sight. A dark figure was crouched at the base of the beast's large, scaly neck. She bent lower into the foliage. The great red beast made a wide turn and one massive beat of its red wings and resumed its position. She followed it, along the horizon, until it became nothing. It was safe she decided and let go a breath she was holding from shock.

She assured herself it was a mirage or a hallucination, but it hard to believe herself, that thing was too close, too recognizable to be a mirage. She pinched her arm in a lost cause. "Ouch, god that hurt. Why do people think that works anyways?" she scolded herself for being so stupid.

She then began to count her problems, get her priorities in order.

Firstly, she was lost in a scorching hot desert.

Secondly, the camp was no where to be seen, no where.

And, thirdly…food. There was no knowing when the next time she would see food and water again. She contemplated whether or not to leave the oasis and finally she decided to continue walking, though she had no justifiable reason to do so. She also planned to take as much food, and by food we mean little, pitiful fistfuls of grass, roots, bush leaves and the odd red berries. And being her prudent self, she tiptoed, the tree being no bigger than her from barely surviving off the pond and took off two palm tree leaves. Who knows when they will come in handy, and they did, not two seconds later, she started fanning herself from the heat.

She chose to ignore the red dragon thing, altogether. Out of sight, out of mind.

She made herself comfortable on the ground, using her new bag as a pillow and slept on her stomach because of the burns on her back—though it was impossible to sleep now.

She thought for a moment of making a fire, but realized she didn't know how and wasn't sure if there was anything in the oasis that could make a fire. The temperature started to drop quickly and just as quickly Evie began to take apart her sweater-bag and put her clothes back on.

She was miserable.

Her dreams were calming but odd. She never had anything like them before. She saw four people's faces she never saw before; a blond boy, his smile was happy and confident but he had sad eyes like he saw his doom before him and wasn't sure of it. There were two women a dark skinned one and pale, black haired one, both beautiful and wise in their own right and an older man in his early twenties, dark almost black hair and scruffy facial hair with angry, tortured eyes.

Their faces flashed in front of her all saying the same thing over and over, in the clearest of voices.

_Shur'tugal. Argetlam. Wyrda…_

The images began to spin faster and faster, the voices were still clear but harder to understand. Then everything stopped and a searing pain shot through her, jolting her wake.

She gasped in pain and grabbed the throbbing area. Her hand was cold and prickly feeling. She looked down at it, instinctively having to see the wound, but was surprised to see a silver star-shaped marking. Rubbing her fingers across the mark, it felt like a scar already. The wound, which she immediately thought, judging from the pain, would be pouring out blood and scraped and cut skin, but it was already a scar. Not _scaring_ but already a full out scar.

"Ahh," she shook her hand to the side with a spasm, trying to get rid of the tight feeling.

Something moved behind her in the bushes and it caught her eye. She swung herself around quickly in a sort of defensive stance.

Before her, no bigger than a small cat, was a green lizard. "Scat!" she threw sand at it, trying to scare it, "Go! Move, scat." She hissed.

The green thing was startled at Evie's out burst and was shrinking back towards the bush whence it came, whimpering.

Despite that this creature probably just poisoned her so it could eat her for lunch, she felt the need to comfort it.

"Oh shush… it's okay," her voice was hoarse, having not spoken in awhile. Evie reached out her hand and in return the little green lizard stretched out its neck and rubbed its head against her palm. "It's okay, I'm sorry. I didn't mean it."

_Mmhhhmmm_.

A sound, not of her own, vibrated through Evie's head. Her head felt so open and empty, like all her thoughts and memories were stuffed into a small cupboard and someone opened the door and everything just spilled out on the floor into a bigger room. There was so much space.

"Ah, what was that?!" In her mind, an image formed; it was the green lizard.

"You? How are you doing this?" The lizard just pushed its face up against Evie's hand more.

"What are you?" an odd feeling enveloped her, like her brain was a big file cabinet and someone was pulling out folders of memories. Before her mind eyes, she saw the dragon from _Dragonheart_ then old European tapestries of dragons, tattoos, other movies that she had seen and experienced. The last image was of the red flying figure, she saw yesterday, which she swore was a plane. Every memory was of dragons.

"A dragon?" the little dragon nodded its head.

She looked up into the sky, "like the one I saw yesterday…" she turned back to it and gave the green dragon a cautious look. "Right, okay this is weird," Evie said as she stood up and walked away form the creature and picked up her bag.

"I'm speaking to a lizard… I have to get home. The sun is defiantly gotten to my head." She mumbled to herself.

The sun was rising and the sky was all pinky purple, a Shirley Temple. The camp was out to the south and it looked farther away than it did yesterday.

She hardly made two steps before a high-pitched squawk came form the dragon. It wobbled after her, it oversized wings flopped around its body as it ran up to her.

"Would you like to come with me?" she asked in a child-like voice. "Well I suppose you can't do any more harm than good. Besides it would be nice to have somebody to talk to, before I go completely crazy. You could be my Wilson. "

All day they walked towards the south. The day seemed to go faster than normal and Evie presumed it was because she had someone to talk to. Evie learned that she could talk to her new friend through her thoughts and the little dragon responded with images from her memories or creations. They mostly talked about Evie's father and Evie's life.

The sun was setting and they stopped to make camp. Evie took out her sock and ripped a hole in it and slid it over her new scar, she felt she should hide it.

The dragon pranced off a few feet away and came back with a rather large desert bug and proceeded to tear it apart to eat.

_That's gross__,_ Evie thought.

Evie was humming a song, when something came across her mind.

_Can you speak?_

Images of children in school appeared in Evie's head to further explain what she said. The feeling of someone in her mind was still unnerving still it felt natural at the same time, like this is how it was supposed to be, she just never knew.

_I will teach you._ She pointed at the sand and picked some up, it being the biggest thing around them and let it fall from her hand. _Sand_.

The voice was of a boy it sounded like he was in his twenties maybe. It wasn't what Evie expected, but she really wasn't sure what she expected anyways.

_Suh-and_

Evie taught him more words and if the dragon ever got stumbled he'd show her an image and she'd give him the word.

The day passed and the two were feeling weaker and weaker. Evie found it hard to take deep breaths, she felt a hard tightening chest pain, and could only take small, quick breaths. Though the dragon never complained, she could feel it's pain and deep down she knew he could feel hers.

Evie was now left with only one palm tress leaf; the dragon jumped at it and tore it to pieces thinking it was a toy because Evelyn kept swinging it around.

Hours passed and the sun was farther to the west, it was mid afternoon.

_Man in_, he showed a mental picture of horses.

_Horses? Where?_He motioned over to the southwest, where a bunch of horses were galloping towards them. In the middle of the caravan was a wagon. This didn't feel right, Evelyn knew.

"Quickly get into my bag. You're small enough. Please. Hurry." Evie said as she bent down and opened the neck hole of her bag, ushering the dragon in.

_Why?_

_Because! Trust me. Don't make any noise or move. Okay?_

As the caravan got closer she could see there were five men in total and four horses. Two men were on the wagon front, one man holding the reins and the other was working with a bow and arrow. The other 3 were on horses, two in the front and one in the back.

The strange thing was, they were dressed in a medieval style with capes and tunics. But Evie kept on walking forward, ignoring them, until they came to close for her to ignore.

"Eh, what do we have here? A lovely lady walking around ain't proper." The man on the lead horse said.

She ignored him and attempted to walk around him and leave but he pulled his horse out in her way. She took a quick glance at the men from under her eyelids. The eldest was the man on the lead horse and had to be in his early thirties and the youngest must have been the blonde boy on the wagon seat with his bow, he must have been around her age, maybe older.

"Oh wait there, you never answered me question." The man laughed.

"And I'm not going to. Ever hear of Stranger Danger?" she stated but kept her eyes on the sand.

"Ha! She got a fiery attitude! Don't she Linole? She better deal with that or she'll or never get bought or get her tongue cut out, haha!"

"Bought? Like a slave?" they agreed, she began to panic, "but… but slavery is illegal! You can't do this!"

Before she could run away a man grabbed her and hulled her to the back of the wagon. She wriggled and fortunately keened him hard enough in the groin he dropped her. She landed hard on the ground and the dragon in her pack made a small noise but fortunately none of them heard it. Quickly, she picked herself and nearly bumped into another man, who came around to help, with wicked speed she jabbed her hand skyward into his nose. He stumbled back and she ran for it.

She just ran, and thanked that she was a fast runner, even with a dragon on her back and the clumsy sand. An arrow flew past her, she didn't know how close it was to hitting her and she barely noticed it as it stuck the sand just a few feet in front of her.

She halted before almost tripping over it and spun around. She saw the blonde perched on the wagon seat with his bow held up; ready to fire again, if needed. Evelyn knew he missed on purpose, to get her attention.

"Come back now!" the man called out, "or my boy here will have to shoot you."

She didn't move. "Come now missy, Jason here don't want to hurt you." She thought of calling his bluff and running again but the blonde, Jason, clearly had aim and she would be dead before she had time to fully turn around.

Jason tightened his bow, ready. She stepped forward and raised her hands. When she got close enough the men grabbed her. The man she punched had a cloth held to his face, the scarlet blood dripped down over his hand and chin. "Damn strumpet!" he hissed. Another man lifted up the sheet covering the wagon door and opened the back.

He pushed her into the wagon and locked the door and was left alone in small cage with two others, a woman and a man.

The man was of dark skin and had a bone priced through his nose and one through his lip. He wore a loincloth of dry grass and several beads adorned on him. The woman, in her early 40's was wearing a tattered floor length dress, her hair and makeup were all smudged and tear stained.

"Umm, excuse me but where are we?"

The woman turned her head over and stared before answering, "I don't know."

"What year is it?"

"I don't know either, love." She turned away started to sob.

The cart started to roll along. The front of the cage didn't have a tarp covering it, for the slavers to check on their slaves. She looked up and saw the blonde boy looking in. He smirked at her; she didn't know what to make of it and turned away.

"Too bad," the leader's voice called out, "Gid, always had such a lovely face. She sure fixed you, eh?"

It had been almost six days since she had first got lost in the desert.

**Disclaimers **

**Do not own; **Pikachu (Pokémon), Dragonheart or Murtagh and Thorn.

**Any questions? I love questions.**


	3. To Put the Hope Diamond to Shame

**Chapter Three : Put the Hope Diamond to Shame**

Late morning, Evie was carving out a line with her thumbnail in the wood of the wagon to mark the 11th day she had been caught. Slowly she had given up on the idea that her father would come and save her.

She came to know her capturers more. Linole, the leader was clam and cool headed, his men followed his every order. He commanded respect. He also took great respect in his appearance; every morning he would shave and trim his beard and scrutinize it until his was satisfied.

Gid, the man whose nose she broke was a brawny brute. He once tried to hit her after insulted him, though it was hardly a big insult. Jason caught his hand before he could strike. He and Jason were never friendly towards each other.

You would immediately think Jason and Linole were father and son, the way they acted around each other but they didn't look a thing alike. He always looked at Evelyn and when he knew she was looking at him he would smile or smirk at her, slowly she got used to it.

Littleleg was the short drunk who rode behind the wagon. He never spoke to people, only sang drunkard songs loudly to himself. The entire group ignored him most of the time.

John was good friends with Jason and Linole and maybe Littleleg, though you wouldn't know (Littleleg never spoke). He was good at cards and always won, but he seemed to be the one who did all the muscle work.

None of them knew her name, at first she tried to refuse to give it but finally said it was Josie, that shut them up for a while, until they started again making rude remarks about her and her cellmates.

While the slavers were eating, a low scream priced the air, followed by shuffling and yelling.

"Linole! He's been shot!"

"What?!"

"Get up you fools!"

"Get your swords, men!"

The dark wool sheet that covered the wagon obscured all vision so Evie couldn't see what was happening outside only hear it. She could see shadows if and when the subject came close enough to the wagon. Clashing and metal clangs were muted by angry yells and groans of pain.

On the right side of the wagon, the woman's side, someone hit the side, emitting a high scream from her and she crawled over to the other side. The wool sheet became soaked in red blood as the victim's limp body fell to the ground and the fighting ceased.

"Okay, men tie them up over there." A new voice sounded, it was younger and softer, not like the low and harsh voices of the slavers. "You three open the wagon and get those people out."

_They're going to open the wagon._

_Yes, what should we do?_ The dragon asked.

The men were whacking at the lock to break it open as Evie's mind was racing faster than a formula one racecar.

_I will get out first and when I tell you, I want you to bolt for it. Okay? Just run. I will be right behind you._ She said.

_But what if they catch you?_

_They won't,_ Evie said reassuringly.

The door finally opened to an older man, "Come you lot, we aren't going to hurt you."

The dark skinned man got up and out first and next the older woman. Evie got up and followed behind her. When she got out she leaned against the man, moving him farther form the door, thus leaving the dragon room to charge. In any other situation this would be highly inappropriate, but it had to be done.

The sun was warm but the air was colder and the ground beneath her was harder than the soft, unstable sand. Being in the dark for so long, the sudden large amount of light blinded Evie and she had to cover her eyes from being blinded. Squinting her eyes to make of what she could; her surroundings were much different than what she last. Trees lined the yellow grassland and far off was a massive river rushing by.

A small group of men, maybe of twenty, surrounded her and the caravan. She saw Gid had been the one killed against the wagon side, she didn't if she should feel something for him or not. Off to the side were the rest of the slavers tied up and beaten, most unconscious or on their way, she saw Jason and he looked back at her. His eye was bruised and lip was cut, he didn't smile back at her.

The man who helped Evie out of the wagon was ushering her over to where the woman and dark skinned man were being tended.

"Roran! Here comes Eragon!" called a man. Everyone's attention turned towards a low swooping sound coming form behind Evie. When she turned she had to cover her eyes more because she was now looking straight into the sun.

A dark shadow crossed the sun and swooped down till it landed gracefully on the ground. There before her was a massive blue dragon. It's scales shone with such a blue it put the Hope Diamond to shame.

_Oh my god, _Evie moved her lips but no sound came. "_DRAGON!_" She yelled the only she could manage at the top of her lungs. She ducked at the ground in fear and the lady from the wagon screamed too. At least she wasn't the only one afraid.

The Green dragon mistook this as the signal to charge and he burst out from the wagon and ran through the group of men but Evie was frozen still, caught in awe by the blue dragon.

_Come on. You must run now. GO! _The green dragon's voice vibrated thought her head shaking her and unleashing an unbridled amount of adrenaline shot right through Evie. She launched herself free and pushed over the man she was beside.

Just as she anticipated all were in shock by the green dragon's appearance, which made it easier to push away and doge the men, but she was still in shock from the blue dragon's appearance.

From behind her, a loud roar boomed form the blue dragon and the ground shook as it pushed itself off the ground and half-flew, half-jumped towards them. In half a leap the blue dragon jumped over her. Evie fell down from the miniature earthquake.

She pushed herself up off the ground, not bothering to dust off the dirt; only to be knocked down again, this time by _somebody_.

"Ah, get off me! I can't breathe, jerk!" she tired struggling against him, but he was stronger, this was inhumane strength. Her hands came up to his face, slapping and pulling at his blonde hair. He grabbed her wrists and in one sweeping motion pulled her up and over his should, knocking the air right out of her.

"Hey, put me down! Down, now!"

As much as she hit and wacked him, he never responded; only walking calming but quickly towards the group of men.

"Roran," he called, "here, take her." She was placed into another mans arms. Not far off, the blue dragon was roaring at the smaller green one. The green dragon was crouched low and hissing at the latter. The scene was much like a small tabby cat hissing at a great lion.

The blonde man who had picked up Evie was also looking at the scene then turned back towards Evie, "Do you work for Galbatorix?."

"What?"

"Are you an ally of the Empire? He pushed.

"What Empire?" her eyes widened, utterly confused.

He seemed to get more irritated as his knuckles became white, "I am going to enter your mind?"

"What the hell?! Are you mad? You can't enter my mind!"

"If you do not work with the Empire then you have no reason to not allow this."

The crowd of men seemed to get closer and closer, able to strike at any moment if needed. Evie didn't want to die so she bent to the man-boy's will.

"Alright you can try, but I don't think you'll find anything!" her voice was high pitched and nervous.

The blue-eyed boy reached out his hand and closed his eyes. Evie stood there waiting, looking a around in disbelief. The boy's face scrunched up in a highly concentrated frown. Even thought she knew telepathy was impossible, she couldn't help but brace her for something; maybe some strange cosmic collision of minds, like what happened when she first spoke with her dragon.

His face was becoming redder and redder by the second and his hand then his arm began to shake slightly until he finally said. "Remove your blockades!" he gasped.

"Excuse me? I haven't got any blockades."

He tried again, still nothing happened. He was angry now and frustrated.

A roar averted his and her attention to the two dragons. The larger one lifted her tail up high and swung it down, missing the smaller one by an inch. With a quick leap she grabbed the distracted green dragon with her back claws and flew over to the group of men.

The blue dragon landed gracefully, once again, crouching like a cage with the green dragon trapped underneath.

Puffs of smoke flowed through the massive dragon's nose, as it pushed the green dragon forcefully towards the wagon, snapping and biting at the smaller dragon's tail and wings, causing him to yellep and Evie could feel his pain and anxiety.

"Stop it! You're hurting him!! _STOP IT!" _she lunged forward at the blonde boy.

The blonde man-boy turned to her and said, "You are a threat to the Varden as of now. It is for protection. Roran please take her to the wagon."

The man holding her, whom she assumed was 'Roran', attempted to pull her towards the wagon.

"Wait, what protection?"

"Weather you are working for Galbatorix or not, you will be hunted down by the Empire. _Protection;_ for the people of Alagaësia, the people of Surda and yourself."

"_Excuse me? _Do you mind explaining? " She demanded over shoulder to the blonde as she was being pushed into the wagon.

"I am deeply sorry but I cannot divulge any information to you. Not until I consult with my lady. Until then you shall remain under custody."

"_What_?!" she shrieked so loud it hurt Roran's ears. "You can't keep me in custody! I haven't done anything wrong!" she was shoved into the wagon, where her dragon was, hissing at the on looking men.

"Stop this! I'm British and American! Get me to an Embassy; they will clear every thing up. Please, you must have the wrong person." Before the door was slammed in her face the blonde boy gave her an apologetic look.

"Stop this!" she cried to the people outside, she was near tears, "please you you've got the wrong person!"

"Roran, we're going back at Feinster," the ground shook followed by low ear pounding thuds form what Evie guessed was the massive dragon departing for the sky.

"Come men, you heard him, to Feinster you are on extreme alert; the Empire could jump at any given time."

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**DISCLAIMERS: I DON'T OWN** Roran, Eragon, Nasuada, Saphira, Varden, Surda, Alagaësia or Galbatorix or his Empire.


	4. To The Leaders

**Chapter four : To the Leaders**

**A/N)** always thought of king Orrin like the sultan from Aladdin, a little goofy you know?

* * *

It had been a long and tedious day; she was tired and the presence of the boy before her just irritated her even more. He had the tendency to disobey her at the most inconvenient times, and this time was of the most importance.

There was an unofficial race between the Varden and the Empire; to find the missing egg. Whoever finds it will have the upper hand, a great advantage in the war. No time could be wasted; it had to be found. It was partially, if not completely Eragon's fault; he sent the blasted thing to who-knows-where.

Nasuada curtsied and touched her two fingers to her lip in the elfish greeting and the blonde boy acknowledged her the same way. She sat down, he followed her example and she began tapping her fingers on the arm of her chair; something she had begun recently, probably due to the stress of the Varden.

"Now, tell me Eragon, what brings you here so early? Surely you could not have the egg so quickly?"

"Milady, Saphira and I have not, nor has Roran. And I don't think any of the other caravans have either. But as we were flying over the desert I felt the presence of five slavers. I sent Roran to ambush them, free the captured and leave the slavers stranded, because I --"

"Eragon! How can you? You dare risk yourself for some petty slavers?" Nasuada cried in anger. Her guards rushed into her tent at her cry but where waved away by Nasuada. "Yes I agree, slavery is terrible and inhuman thing but you risked yourself. Did you every think of if you were caught?"

"Yes, lady Nasuada, I understand but if you will…," Eragon defended his intentions and Nasuada sat down for him to continue.

"When we ambushed the caravan we..." he paused with a smile on his face. "In the wagon was the third _Dragon Rider…_"

Nasuada stared at him, _could this be true? The third rider?_ When she met Eragon and Saphira she felt joy beyond belief and hope, hope for the Varden and Alagaësia. When she heard of the second rider, Murtagh and Thorn happiness filled her but was quickly ripped from her by the fact that they had sided with the enemy. She had always imagined the arrival of a dragon rider, at times she would ponder on who it would be, often it was Arya and Roran but she would at times mused herself as one as well.

"Does..." she paused to clear her throat, "does Galbatorix of you him?"

"_Her_ and I do not know. I fear she is though. I could not enter her mind and she would not yield it to me. And when I asked her if she was working with the empire she would respond with blatant answers." he waited for all this to settle with Nasuada and her reaction. To his surprise she did noting not even blink.

"Her dragon is small, if only a week maybe 2 weeks old. We have her caught in the wagon the same in which we found her. I should find Arya and the elves, if I can not breach her mind I will need the elves help as well."

"Yes, yes find any and every magician but Eragon don't, please do not let word of this out. I will fetch king Orrin and Jörmundur. Tell Roran to pull the wagon up to my tent and I shall meet you here as quick as possible."

Right outside her tent was Nasuada's guard, standing cautiously around Saphira, in the wet mud. As Nasuada headed to King Orrin's tent and her guard trailed behind, at her requests, though she hated being hovered over so much.

The Surdan King's tent was grand and in Nasuada's opinion it was too grand. It was twice maybe three times the size of hers; with rich red and purple fabric, the trimmings, which hung along the door opening and roof, were gold fringe like. On the tapestries were embroidered lions and unicorns.

Her head guard announced her arrival to the inside of the tent. From behind glass tubes and bubbling vials was Orrin, holding a splint.

"Lord Orrin there is an emergency; you must come to my tent. Please if you will follow me…"

"Ah, Nasuada!" Orrin face brightened with a proud smile, like a child's would when he got a perfect on a test. "Look what I have discovered! This black liquid here, will combust at even the smallest amount of sun light or flames! Ha-ha, isn't wondrous!?"

"Orrin we have an emergency!"

"Pssff! Is anyone dying?"

"No." Nasuada answered shortly.

"Is the Empire army at our gates?"

"No." She answered again.

"Well then what ever it is, it can wait. But this you must see."

On the table was a black stained glass box that had an opening at the top, which inside held a metal bowl. Orrin lit the splint he was holding and held it a foot away from the side of the box instantly the liquid inside burst in to flames.

"See! Amazing!" Orrin laughed. The flames began to spill out over the bowls edges and grow hotter and hotter at a dangerous rate. Orrin pulled the trap door close and let the fire burn out.

"The odd thing is; it can't be put out by water, hmmm odd eh?" Turing towards Nasuada, the king clasp his hands together and said; "now that was your emergency that needed to be dealt with?"

* * *

**DISCLAIMERS: I DON'T OWN** Roran, Eragon, Nasuada, Saphira, Varden, Surda, Alagaësia, Galbatorix, his Empire, King Orrin or Jörmundur

Chapters 4 and 5 are coming together because they are both tiny chapters and chapter six is alot longer and im not finished it yet o_o, so hopefully these two chapters will hold you off for a while.

and reviews are really, superdooper appreciated. i really want to know what you think about what im writing and if it's any good and some ideas. i want to get to know you guys and what ya like, so i dont end up writing something you hate and you go home crying, because that would be really embarrassing, for the both of us...yea.

also exams are coming up (end of jan.) so i might be a bit busy to update as quickly as i would like, but have no fear it will be done!


	5. To Break Her Fingers

**Chapter four : To Break Her Fingers**

Nasuada's large tent was the most crowded she ever seen it. Each race huddled in their own part of the available space. The elves stood beside the door; proud and regal, as always, never betraying their thoughts, though Nasuada knew they must of confused because no one knew why they were there. Eragon stood in front of them with his hand resting on his hilt of his sword, Arya with her eye brows knotted into a frown was to his left and Blödhgarm to his right.

On the other side of the door Roran, the magician Carn, the leader of the Kull; Garzhvog and Durnark; King Orik's Dwarf ambassador. The four men have not spoken at all, the only movement was by Roran sending uncomfortable glance towards Eragon.

Nasuada was sitting in her chain and Orrin by her side in his own seeming rather bored. In between the two was Jörmundur.

But the focus of each one of these people was on the young woman who was just brought in. She stood in the middle of the tent, her hands bound together in iron and her dragon crouched down on the floor, his neck also bound in chains and iron.

The room stifled their gasps when the two were brought in, but their faces gave it all away.

Nasuada eyed the girl, she kept her head down but would at occasions lift it; her face was bruised at odd places. Nasuada could see this girl had been traveling for quite some time; her hair was all stingy and knotted from not washing it, large bag occupied the space below her eyes. Her skin looked sickly and if it wasn't sun burnt Nasuada assumed it would look pale and ghost like. But the most appalling thing was the smell of this girl, it was worst than the poorest beggar.

She had on her tight cloth pants, rolled up to her knees and no socks, so her feet were covered in dirt. Her shirt had no sleeves, Nasuada wondered if this was common where she came from.

"What is your name?" Nasuada's voice broke the silence causing everyone's eyes to turn to her, including the poor girl's. She hesitated to speak.

"It's… "She paused to swallow a lump in her throat, to Nasuada her voice sounded thick as though she had been crying.

"It's, my names is Josie."

Silent.

The raven haired Arya stepped forward. "What is your _real_ name?"

The girl put her head down and whimpered. "What do you want? I haven't done anything! I'm lost, really. Take me to the American or British embassy, they will clear up everything. If its money you want you will get it!"

"Tell us your name! And how you became in possession of the green dragon?!" Eragon spoke harshly.

"Are you working for Galbatorix?"

"I don't know what you're talking about." She said through her teeth.

Nasuada's eyes scanned the room, each face said the same thing; _she's lying_.

"We will give one last chance to explain yourself, if not we will be forced to enter your mind and take the information. _Resistance will be punished_."

"_Resistance will be—_are you bloody mad?!" she tapped her temple with her finger, but her hands were bound and only caused _her_ to look ridiculous, "you can't go into people's minds! It's impossible! And _you_ know that," she pointed to Eragon. "you've already tried!"

"Yes, I understand that, that's why I have asked Arya and the elves for their assistance."

"Elves!?" the girl's face was distorted in disbelief, "What did you say? Elves?! Elves don't exist! Neither do dragons and mind reading! This stuff is impossible; only for bed time stories and sifi movies!"

"If you are so sure that we can not enter your mind, then you should have no reason to not allow us this. So if you please, and as said before; Resistance _will_ be punished."

The elves looked composed as usual but slowly on after another frowns began forming across their angular faces, some would raise their hands or clench their fists, one elf, Hiudr, began to bleed from her nose. It wasn't working. This girl was powerful to keep 13 elves and a Dragon Rider out of her mind.

Nasuada signaled her head guard to grab hold of the girl, causing her to shrink back in fear. The man took hold of her hand. "You are forcing us to take unnecessary actions. If you don't tell us what we need we will break your fingers, till you do."

The black haired girl's face froze in shock and pain. She struggled against the guard but was hopeless when two more guards came for assistance. Her dragon cried out in defense.

"_I don't know anything, please stop! Please!"_

_

* * *

_

**DISCLAIMERS: I DON'T OWN** Roran, Eragon, Nasuada, Saphira, Varden, Surda, Alagaësia, Galbatorix, his Empire, King Orrin, Jörmundur Arya or Blödhgarm

Chapters 4 and 5 are coming together because they are both tiny chapters and chapter six is alot longer and im not finished it yet o_o, so hopefully these two chapters will hold you off for a while.

and reviews are really, superdooper appreciated. i really want to know what you think about what im writing and if it's any good and some ideas. i want to get to know you guys and what ya like, so i dont end up writing something you hate and you go home crying, because that would be really embarrassing, for the both of us...yea.

also exams are coming up (end of jan.) so i might be a bit busy to update as quickly as i would like, but have no fear it will be done!


	6. To the Rescue

**Chapter Six : To The Rescue**

It was impossible to get free; one man was holding down her shoulders down. She was now on the floor, in the fetal position, her shins and cheek on the carpet. She turned her head and saw her dragon also being wrestled down. Her hands were tied behind her back, where she couldn't get to them, couldn't protect them. Another man took a tight grip on my fingers. He singled out my pinky and bent it back slightly; it made a soft popping sound, her heart pounded.

"Tell us what you know."

"Oh, god," she exhaled, breathing into the red carpet and closed her eyes. She didn't know anything; she just wanted to go home.

He was going to break it. She braced herself for pain, taking in deep breaths.

A big shaggy cat emerged from the door followed by a short with dark chocolate brown, curly hair. She seemed angry or impatient.

I opened my mouth once more in a said attempt to stop this but the woman took the words right out of my mouth. "What is this? Stop this now!"

"Angela you have no right!" the dark woman said.

"Oh please! _I knew this would happen._ I have been looking all over for you Eragon, and you!" She pointed to the blond boy and the dark woman and then began scolding herself. "How could have overlooked this place!"

She squatted down to be eye level with Evelyn, "You should be very thankful of Solembum, if he hadn't heard your cries; you would be sitting here with no fingers…_or worse_." The woman chuckled then addressed the men holding her. "There won't be any need of that. Let go of her, please."

Men holding Evie down let go quickly, out of fear, maybe?Maybe this woman was of some importance? But the man holding her hands did not let go until he got a nod from the black woman who Evelyn assumed was _Nasuada_.

Evelyn whispered a soft thank you, out of relief or mere gratitude. "Think nothing of it," the woman said modestly.

"Now Nasuada, King Orrin, I ask permission to take this young lady from here to my tent. Will you allow this of me?" the tone in the short woman's voice wasn't the real loyalty and fear that you'd expect but it was sort of mocking, there was a hit of laughter and a smile in her voice.

"Absolutely not!"

"Yes, Angela, I don't feel it wise." The older man beside Nasuada had spoken for the first time.

"I can see why you think that but this is all just a misunderstanding," the short girl; Angela pleaded Eve's case. _Yes!! A misunderstanding!! Come on can't see she's right? _She wanted to yell but was afraid.

Guard's hands griped her sunburn arms making her wince in pain, "Up you go, there." He encouraged as he lifted her up from the ground.

"Thank you Lady Nasuada, King Orrin, Jörmundur." Angela did a head curtsy then left for the door. Nasuada face was hard, her eyes squinting and her lips pursed. Evelyn stood there afraid for a moment to leave but was pushed quickly along behind Angela.

The outside air was cold, and felt refreshing on her burnt skin. This cool air just washed her thoughts of her impending doom away, and the close call she just encountered.

They brought her to a new tent. Pots, cauldrons and books occupied most of the place, it was a bit unnerving, and this place looked so much like the cook's tent back at the exhibition_. _

She sat down into a large wood chair laden with pillows and cushions. Angela headed straight for the cauldron in the fireplace, "would you like some tea?"

"Umm, yes." Evelyn said, absentmindly.

"Eragon, tea_?" _she asked over her shoulder.

Eragon had come in silently and sat down beside Evelyn, startling her. He apologized silently.

There was something odd about him, his movement were deliberate and quick or slow, never in between. His face was angular, high cheekbones and long skinny nose. His eyes and eyebrows were long and slanted like a cat's. In all, he looked like a cat, a human cat. Eve soon realized that she had been staring at him and came back to focus only to see he was staring back, his cat eyes squinting at her making her turn away.

His face, she felt she saw it before. Somewhere.

Angela placed the clay cup beside her hands. As quickly as she sat down across of Evie, a black cat appeared on her lap. "Oh, Solembum I was wondering were you ran off too. Look I have found her."

The cat looked across the table, it looked much like a black shrunken lion with its large shaggy main surrounding its small angular face. Its long white fangs curved over its jaw making it look menacing.

Its black tipped ears were turned away, and its nose kept on twitching till it finally hissed right at Evelyn. It crouched crawled across the wood table hissing and hissing like she was invading its territory.

All the hairs on its back stood up and vibrated quickly until they melted all away. Evelyn launched herself as far away from the melting cat as fast possible, hitting the table and knocking the tea over. The blonde boy stood up too grabbing at his side.

Were the cat was, now was a small boy of seven sitting on the table. Behind his black shaggy hair his face was confused and angry. "Why can't I speak to you!?" he demanded with such confidence.

Her mouth was so dry and couldn't speak. Her eyes were wide and she started breathing hard.

"Oh my god!" she had enough, "what the _hell_ just happened?"

"Oh please sit down, there is nothing to be afraid of, Solembum is a warecat, he doesn't want to harm you." Angela waved her hand to the discarded chair.

Eragon spoke; his voice was soft and song like, almost perfect. "Solembum, you can't hear either?" The cat-boy shook his head angrily.

"Yes I heard you couldn't hear her thoughts, odd isn't it? But I think I know why that is…" Angela went on, "but I want to know about _you_. I was told you were to travel a great distance, tell us how did you come by you egg?"

"You knew of her?!" Eragon's voice was dipped in disbelief.

"_Shush_, Eragon. Now tell us your name, and don't lie, we won't hurt I promise you."

She didn't know why she wanted to lie, say her name really is _Josie,_ but last time she tried that, they nearly broke her fingers. "It's Evie, Evelyn Winston-King."

"And how did you come by the dragon egg?"

"_Where is my dragon?_"

"Safe."

"_Safe?"_

"He is locked away so you can't escape. It was the only way Nasuada would agree to letting you come here. Now where did you find the dragon egg."

"I don't know, at all, what you mean by this dragon egg. Honestly I just woke up in the morning, in the middle of a desert," her voice was rising. "Then I was burnt by some lizard thing, then I was _kidnapped_! Kidnapped by _slavers_! Then kidnapped by _YOU_!" she pointed her finger at the blond boy, he didn't even flinch.

"Well you must have seen, touched the egg because otherwise the there would be no dragon at all." Angela still remained composed and calm.

"Did you mistake it as a rock maybe a gem?" the boy added.

_King Mundar's 5 diamond eggs…_

"I have seen… my father found an egg shaped stone. He was looking for King Mundar's diamond eggs but found something else and he didn't know what it was, I touched it and… I remember it shocked me...."

"_And_…?" Eragon's voice broke her thoughts.

"I had a fit or something, like a heart attack. Then I woke up in the middle of a desert. I thought I slept walked so I walked and walked. For days I walked, once I saw a red airplane, but its wings _flapped_, I know this sounds crazy… but you guys have no right to call me crazy…it looked like a _red dragon_. I don't maybe I—"

"Did he see you!?" Eragon's voice jumped three octaves.

"No, I don't think so." The boy was silent and for the first time Angela smile staggered a bit, her eyes were worried.

"Anyway," she continued, "The next morning I was burnt or something my hand," she removed her sock glove and pointed to the scar.

"Yes we all have them; it connects the minds of a Rider to a Dragon," He quickly slipped off his fingerless gloves to revel his own burn, "it's called a _Gedwey Ignasia _or _shining palm."_

It was longest she heard him talk. His, voice to be frank; was beautiful. The tone in his voice had always been hard and to the point, but he seemed to calm a bit.

The burn on his hands sparkled in the dim candlelight. As much as Evelyn believed all this was a joke or a dream of some kind, this boy she hardly knew looked so sure of himself and believed what he was saying. She wouldn't admit it but deep down she knew he wasn't lying, she didn't want to believe it. It was like the itch on the bottom of your foot, it was impossible to rid and oh so annoying.

"I'm not from here." she decided to come clean. "So I don't know anything about what you're saying, if you could _just explain to me_."

"You are tried, listen to yourself, you can hardly speak." Angela ignored her plea, "and look at you, Eragon, yawing like a hippopotamus. You both have traveled for weeks and need rest."

"Nasuada said—"

"This child is harmless, Eragon, she can do no more harm than a dead frog. Trust me, Eragon, have I wronged you?" Eragon steered at the brunette with doubtful eyes, when his face relaxed he said, "No."

"If it will lighten your consentience, we don't have to tell Nasuada." Wry smile crossed her lips. Evelyn was under the impressing Angela did not like her or just didn't care for authority.

It took much convincing for Eragon to leave but Angela managed to do it. Evelyn sat waiting in her chair; too scared to blot for it. The chances of successfully escaping were extremely slim and had no idea where to go if she did.

She came to sit down and claps her hands together on the table. "Now he's gone, you must have many questions, Evelyn Winston-King…"

* * *

IM DONE EXAMS! YEEE

**Disclaimers: I don't own** Angela or Solembum

**AND FOR PEOPLE WANTING TO KNOW**; the story is based off the song _Warning sign – Coldplay. _So if you want to know where the story is headed listen to the song.

also ive written more chapters (3 new ones!) but am having trouble uploading them and i don't know why. this chapter was already uploaded. i dont know why they wont let me upload new ones.

AND does anyone know/recommend any really good, inheritance cycle fanfictions i should read?


	7. To be Accepted

**Chapter Seven : To Be Accepted**

She came to sit down and claps her hands together on the table. "Now he's gone, you must have many questions, Evelyn Winston…"

She really did think she was going to be sent to bed, and had kind of hope for it. Angela leaned against the back of her chair and played with a strand of her long curly brown hair. She was a good liar, and Evelyn started to wonder how many people she has fooled with this skill. She congratulated herself for pointing it out before Angela played her skill on Evelyn.

All my questions were like children pushing and climbing over one and another to get out the door at recess.

"Why did you make him leave?" she felt the need to ask.

"Eragon? He can get so annoying and pestering. But you must much more interesting questions."

"I do but I don't know where to start. I have heard this, this Galbatorix guy is he some, _I don't know_, bad guy?" she felt silly for saying 'bad guy', like she was a child watching Saturday morning cartoons.

"Galbatorix, is a terrible man, he's killed hundreds of dragon riders. Now he hides in his castle in Urû'baen like a coward." She spat, venom dipping off every word. Evelyn couldn't understand her anger, for she hardly explained anything.

"Oh, you look as blank as a dumb horse." She practically danced out of her chair and over to an old wood cabinet and pulled out a large scroll.

She directed Evelyn to put the candle on the edge of the scroll to weigh it down. The scroll was frayed at its edges and stained yellowish brown. On the old paper were black, blue and red smudges of ink, obscuring words and writing that Evie had never seen.

She squinted her eyes to better see the writing but still it was hard to comprehend. With a long finger Angela pointed at the lower western part of the map, beside a bay, "This is _Feinster_, this is where we are." Then she pointed to a city in the Middle West "…and this is _Urû'baen_."

With her finger she traced a large amount of the west " and this is his Empire but so far we have secured these two cities; _Feinster_ and _Aroughs_." She then circled the large wooded area to the north, "This is _Du Weldenvarden_, the elves live there. You will be going there quite often, I haven't been there in ages but it is beyond beautiful, words could not compare.

The Elves have taken village Ceunon, though they have been busy, _with unknown reasons_, to take on any other cities."

"Take cities? Like in a war?"

"Well yes, I thought it obvious." She said a tad bit amused. "I suppose you aren't aware of Alagaësia's history."

"No, no I'm not. I thought _it_ obvious." Evelyn was getting annoyed with her light humor.

"Well I will make some more tea and get some bread."

"NO! I don't want any food! Ever since I got here no one has been straight with me!"

"_Calm down,_" she raise her voice to rival, "what I have to tell you, is a long and tedious tale and I _don't_ want to be interrupted. I was being considerate of your well-being… are you hungry? Thirsty?"

Evelyn met her eyes, and nodded a yes. She was very hungry, starving really. She had hardly eaten since she got here, the slavers gave her a piece of stale bread the size of her hand and even then she spilt it with her small dragon. Her stomach growled, she hadn't eaten a real meal in nearly two weeks. Once the warm bread and hot tea were on the table, Angela brought a blanket to keep her warm, tucking it in on the sides and sat down to begin her story.

"My terrible tale would start, hundreds years ago. After the Elves came over from Alalëa, now the elves are very proud and when they saw the wild dragons, they saw them as a mere animal, nothing more. An elf killed a dragon, like game. This enraged the dragons and sparked a great war. A young elf named Eragon--"

"You mean that Eragon?" Evelyn pointed with her eyes in the direction Eragon left by.

"No, not _that_ Eragon. And please, no interruptions. Anyway, the _eleven_ Eragon found a white dragon egg and took, some say stole it, but that is beside the point. Later the egg hatched and the elf and dragon bonded, with minds and soul. Eragon named his dragon Bid'Daum and the two flew around preaching how the two races could live in harmony, using themselves as examples. Thus, the Dragon Riders, or _Shur'tugal, _if you will, were born_._

Many years after the elves decided to include humans in their little pact, this however caused the humans to have prolonged lives and look more like elves than humans. That is what happened to Eragon."

Evelyn opened her mouth to question her further about him, but she was shushed too quickly before she could ask.

"The dragons and rider formed an order and became the peacekeepers of Alagaësia, they were feared and loved, treated like gods. Galbatorix was a foolish young boy, undeserving to be a rider. He ventured out into the north, which yet to be fully discovered, and was attacked by Urgals. All, except Galbatorix were killed. Galbatorix demanded a new dragon but the council refused. This only drove him madder still. He felt the order and council were to fault, so he gathered followers and began to plot the death of all dragon riders.

He seceded. The war was horrible, many riders and dragons killed themselves because of the loss of their companion. He killed the Shur'tugal leader; Vrael and stole another dragon egg; Shruikan, forcing it to open for him. After this, the elves went into hiding allowing Galbatorix claimed himself as king. His followers, know as the Forsworn slowly died off or were killed, only one of them though had a child, Morzan had a son named Murtagh, who is now a dragon rider as well. However he is a servant of Galbatorix and, sadly, Eragon's half-brother."

"Murtagh," Evelyn repeated to herself, to remember the name and caution herself.

"Murtagh had killed Oromis and Glaedr, they would have been your teachers if not..." her eyes drooped down for a moment and when they returned they were hardly watery enough to produce tears, nonetheless watery. They must have been friends; it must have been horrible on her, to lose her friend. Evelyn understood now; the hatred Angela had for Murtagh and Galbatorix.

"Two months later, a Halfling was found wandering, just south of Helgrind. He said that Galbatorix had moved the last egg to Dras-Leona where it was to be guarded by both royal legion and the best of the Black Hand.

Eragon, elves, three best fighters of each race left to steal the stone. The Black Hand must have informed Galbatorix because Murtagh had arrived. The fight was immense, many died, Saphira and Thorn fought in the air and had Saphira not thrown Thorn into the egg chambers wall, crashing it down to allow Eragon in. Unfortunately Murtagh and he had a swordfight and Murtagh had dislocated Eragon's shoulder. Eragon's cousin, Roran saved Eragon by diverting Muztagh's attention, cutting off the tip of his pinky finger on his right hand."

Evelyn held out her hand under the table and imagined missing the tip of her finger. She had come close, early today, to losing her fingers. She shuddered, so close.

"There was no way for Eragon to escape, so he took the egg and in his attempt to send the egg to the Varden with magic. It must have gone to you."

"Right," was all she could manage.

"I know it is late, but as a rider you should be able to do magic and I was wondering if, with your closed mind, if you are able to. Do you mind lifting this?" she pulled a ring off her finger and laid it down on the table in front. Evelyn reached with a hand to grab it but was stopped, "With magic."

"But I don't know how."

"Just feel yourself picking up the ring, but with your mind. Imagine the ring in your hand, the motion arm makes, the muscles…now say _rïsa._"

It was so uncomplicated; just imagine the ring in your hand. Feel the smooth metal in your fingers. Feel the small intricate designs. Feel the tiny gems imbedded in it. Feel the circular shape. Feel the ring in your fingers.

"Rïsa," she whispered. The ring wobbled, every so slightly, to the left then the right. The green gem lifted up, all by it's self, till it standing up right. She freaked and retired her mind back, as odd as that sounds, cutting off all connections with the ring letting it fall down, again, lifeless.

"Why did you stop?"

"Because that's not supposed to happen!" freaked.

"_Well it did_. Why don't you try again and this time don't stop, I want you to place it in my hand."

She held out her hand, above the ring where it dropped on the floor. She the imaginary feeling of the ring in her hand and repeated the word. This time she let it reach it's full height. Slowly, her mind mimicking the same motions as her hand, she pushed the ring through the air. More often than not the ring would falter, as Evelyn would lose concentration from her own amazement.

"Okay so it is obvious that, which a little practice, you can do magic…" Angela's eye brows came together and she bit her thumb, she was thinking hard, then resumed speaking, "I want you to repeat this; _Eka vili hreppa sási hringr._"

She did as she was told and Angela held out her hand over the table and let go of the ring. Their heads followed its trail as it fell and bounced over to its side and onto the floor. A loud gasp came from Angela making Evie's head twist towards her. Her eyes were wide open like she was scared yet she biting her lower lip; thinking.

"What?" Evelyn almost yelled at her.

She whispered something, and then she said, "interesting…" louder.

"What now?" Evelyn moaned and slumped in her chair.

"You didn't catch it."

"I didn't know I had to." She flew up her hands.

"You vowed to me you would, in the _Ancient Language_. You _should_ be in terrible pain. I mean I freed you already, but it takes so much energy to disobey a vow, and when you do disobey it causes you great amount of pain. Yet you're _fine_. I don't think you should tell anyone about this."

"Why?"

"Because you are a dragon rider, your loyalty is the strongest weapon a person can have. When you vow in the Ancient Language you _cannot_ break it, not matter how much you try, yes you can find holes in the vow and avoid doing it. But _you_, you can't vow and that is probably the greatest weapon you will ever have.

Eragon didn't understand how important these vows are, and he vow nearly to every one he met. Now he is torn between these vows; one asking to kill a man, the other asking him to protect said man. I believe it has made him irritable. So, if some one wants you to vow your loyalty I want you to ask them everything about the vow you are making. Do you understand?"

"I do but why?" she said still unsure.

"Because you don't know any Ancient Language, so you won't understand what they are asking of you. This is only until you understand the Ancient Language. But you must promise me this; unless you are completely certain_._ _Never tell any one."_

"_I vow it…" _this brought a small smile to her lips.

Angela made more tea while Evelyn told her about my world, where she was form. About cars and computers, which she didn't find interesting. Though she was interested if, in my world, we had toads.

_WAKE UP!_

Evelyn jumped out of bed, flinging the blankets off the and the bed. "_Angela_?"

No answer.

_Finally you are awake._

_Dragon?... where have you been!? _She jumped up on the floor.

_I don't know. Cage. Tent._

"Angela!?"

She ran out of the small alcove bedroom and ducked under the low, drooping fabric roof into the main tent-room. She passed the wooden table and fireplace from last night without a second glance.

She raised the half open tent flap and slowly peered out side. "_Angela_?" she whispered cautiously. She was sitting on a stool with plants and herbs in her apron lap and stirring some horrible concoction that made a foul smell. The cat, Solembum, was lying beside her on the ground and growled at Evelyn's peeping head.

"Don't mind him; he's just stuck up about last night." Angela said without looking up, keeping busy with her gross bubbling soup.

"Angela! I have been calling you."

"If you want breakfast, you can fix yourself."

"What? No, I want, to see my dragon."

"Yes I know you do, but I am afraid you can't just yet. You see Nasuada is having an argument with Eragon and Arya at the moment. Knowing them, and I do, it will take nearly half the morning. Beside, you and … what did you say your dragon's name was?" she said, still not bothering to look up.

"I didn't." Evelyn raised her eyebrow.

"Well you have to name him." She waved her hand aside languidly.

"I thought they just come with a name." Evie said stupidly.

"What on earth gave you that idea?" she turned around, ignoring her herbs and her brown hair bouncing around, gave Evelyn a long look of disbelief.

"Well", she continued, returning her pot, "this will give you time to think of a name. As I was saying; you and your dragon will have to meet with Varden's and Surda's council, and to meet with the council is very important, _especially for you._ They are going to decided whether you are an enemy or not. Now we both know you aren't evil and corrupt, but they don't and will need convincing, especially Nasuada. So I suggest we meet with King Orrin, before hand, he may be odd but he is the king of Surda and is of high importance. But you must look proper for a private audience and you are in need of a bath… very much indeed."

Evelyn sat in a bucket. Evelyn sat in the upright fetal position in a very large bucket.

It was made of wood, which became revoltingly soggy and was banded together with metal strips, which, surprisingly didn't leak.

Steam raised from the water around her and her tanned skin became moist from it and her black hair stuck to the sides of her face. She sat on her bum with her thighs tucked against her chest and her chin on her keens, trying to avoid touching the side as much as possible. Her arm draped over her knee and hung like a crane over the water. With lazy and slow motions, she traced shapes on the surface and watched the ripples bounce off each other and their surroundings.

_The blue dragon's name is Saphira._

_I can't have that name; it her name, besides it's a _girl's_ name._

_What about Bellator? It means brave in Latin._

_I don't like it._

_Velox Unus?_

_Could be better…_

_Velox Nodin? We can put them together, like; Nodex or Veldin?_

_I do like it, but it is too long._

_Well Velox can be your first name and Nodin; your last name._

_Last name?_

_Never mind._

……………………

She would be stupid not to be nervous, but she wasn't. She wasn't feeling very brave either. She immediately figured it must be because nothing has settled in just yet, not that she knew when it would hit her.

She knew she had a little job to do and she knew that if she fails at this little _job_ all would go down hill for her. She had to win the crowd, sell herself, _convince them not to kill her._ She knew she could do it, she had to, and besides she was good at it.

Her old clothes and sweater bag was given back after it had been scrutinized over and over by powerful magicians and the weapon savvy.

Angela convinced her not to wear her old clothing just as Evelyn lifted her sweater over her head. Angela argued that her strange clothing would not be proper for royal audiences and smelt terrible and were completely worn out from the long desert sun.

So with no clothes to wear, Angela left to find some. Frustratingly, Evelyn did not fit into any of Angela's shifts. All of her clothing where too big in the waist and too long in the arms and legs. "I can easily hem a skirt and sleeves but taking in a waist-line will take too long." She said, folding the bottom of the skirt.

Finally Angela marched to the elves tents, muttering about odd body shapes and clothing. When she came back, she held a lump of silver fabric that sparkled slightly when she moved it.

"This is Arya's. She is the closest to your size. She said it was an old gift

but would never have a chance to wear it."

"It's beautiful!"

It was the most beautiful thing Evelyn had seen. It was something that should be worn with grace and poise. The fabric was thin and so tightly woven it was impossible to tell one silver strand from another. Despite its beauty, Evelyn put on the fabric hesitantly thinking it would scratchy against her skin because it sparkled, but was surprised to feel it soft and silky. The closest fabric it resembled was silk.

The shirt ended at her mid thigh and curved around her hips with buckles and odd clips here and there. The sleeves, tight on the upper arm, belled out with intricate violet lace. The neck collar was high, nearly touching her ear lobes and slanted slightly down, running parallel with her jaw line.

The front opened enough to show the collarbone and buttoned up with straps off to the side. The same purple lace ran down the front, from the shoulder to the hips. The pants were darker but made of the same fabric and were worn like tights. Contrasting to the rest of the outfit; they were light brown with wooden clasps along the ankle.

She took one last look in the old mirror before leaving with Angela and her guard escorts. She was pretty, though she would argue otherwise and seemed to glow in the elven clothes.

It was midday and the sky was bright, for a fall day and leaves scattered the ground.

The camp was made of diverse tents with name crests embroidered on them. Many had spears, swords and armor displayed in front or resting against the tarp. Other tents, like Angela's, had boiling pots and fire pits. Sitting outside of their tents, the men occupied themselves with polishing and sharpening weapons or forging new ones. Some were eating and chatting with neighbors, one man, after swallowing, wiped his mouth with his blond braid. Another busied himself with carving a piece of wood.

The woman were clad in long skirts and apron and baggy blouse and tended on their husbands and chores.

Far out, Evelyn could see the new Varden captured the fortress of Feinster.

Evelyn walked sluggishly behind Angela and as the two passed the clusters of tents the people looked up and watch. It couldn't be because she was a dragon rider, because no one knew that she was one. She wondered if it was because of her guard escorts who barely gave her room to breath.

As she walked on she could hear them whisper things to their companions.

"An elf?"

"_No_, look at her ears"

"Have you seen her before?"

"No"

"Who is she?"

"A friend of Angela's, perhaps?"

"I should hope not!"

Despite their murmurs she gained some strange new confidence and tilted her chin ever so slight in the air and walked more erect.

Evelyn glanced behind herself and could no longer see Angela's tent.

"When will I get to see my Dragon?" Evelyn asked just as they reach a large purple and red tent, more or less in the middle of the camp.

"I promise before tomorrow. Have you named him yet?" she questioned.

"Yes, Velox. Velox Nodin."

"A well fitting name." and she pushed the Rider into the tent.

The large room filled was with glass vials and tubes and in the corner an old man was sitting comfortably on his chair reading something when his guard cleared his throat.

Looking up from his book, the old man, with an enthusiastic look invited her in. She bowed and sat down in front of him.

"So why have you come here?"

"It would be foolish of me to lie to a king. I am here to win your respect and loyalty and to offer you mine."

"Ah," he leaned back into his chair and smirked, "very bold. And how do you attempt to accomplish this?"

"What is you're book about?" she leaned in.

"Ah" his face bighted."It is, as you see, I have been plagued with a new invention. Should I experiment on it, I am afraid to burn down the camp."

"May I see it?" she pushed farther.

He raised him his seat and moved to the table on the side of the tent. The wooden tent with utensils reminded her of her father's worktable.

Black glass box was sitting lonely on the table; it had an opening at the top and inside a metal bowl. Orrin put his hand in the top of the box and pulled out the bowl and pointed at the black liquid floating in the bowl.

He put the bowl back into the box, "Here, I will show you," he held a lit splint he held a foot away from the side of the box, immediately a fire grew inside the box. Quickly Orrin pulled a trap door close and without any oxygen he let the fire choke itself dead.

It seemed oddly familiar to her, this liquid reminded her of something. It was much like Greek Fire.

"Could you light it again? And next time put water on it?"

He did so without question and this time he poured a bucket of water on it—still it grew and grew, like the water was feeding it. Before the fire got to out of hand Orrin closed the trap door again.

"Did you know that was going to happen?"

"I had an inkling." She gave a weak smile and continued looking at the black box. "We have this in my world. It's like Napalm, very explosive and dangerous. But this, this is more like Greek Fire; it cant go out with water, in fact water just makes it spread out more and you can't blow it out either that will just make it grow. They used that liquid to make flame throwers." She asked for a paper and pen and drew a blueprint explain how to build an ancient Greek Fire flame thrower.

With her father being an archeologist, historical artifacts constantly surrounded her. This would be a historian's greatest dream; to be caught in this world. This place was so raw and everything was so primitive and simple; no car, computers and such. She smile to herself, she must sound so smart and futuristic as she explained many of her modern day conveniences. He showed much more interest than Angela did.

After she had filled the King's head with ideas of indoor plumbing and wagons that move themselves Angela had returned to escort the young rider. King Orrin had decided to accompany them to the War Tent, so he could continue speaking with Evelyn.

"Now how exactly does this _submarine_ keep its air?"

The company walked to the War Tent. There were less people outside now; it was darker and the sun was setting, dying the blue sky orange and pink.

She recognized the tent as soon as she walked into it, it was the dreaded tent where they threatened to breaker her fingers.

Only two of the Elves were present; the dark haired woman named Arya and the man wearing fur. Eragon stood beside them, his hand on the hilt of his sword.

The Kull Nar Garzhvog, an Urgal warchief, and short Dwarf with many thick red braids and gold bands around his beard stood in the same places they had the night before.

The dark skinned woman; Nasuada and King Orrin, who gave her a wide smile making his eyes crease at the corners sat exactly as they had the night before.

Everything was the same, except the man name Roran, his friend and the rest of the beautiful people were missing and every one was sitting.

"I am under the impression you are not an ally to the empire?" Nasuada begun.

Evelyn was not sure if she was to speak or if Nasuada was simply speaking aloud. She glanced back and Angela nodded her head. Evelyn remembered what she had said earlier; keep her answers to a minimum.

"No, I am not." She spoke clearly.

"There should be no reason not to allow us to read your mind."

Evelyn's shoulders dropped and she sighed. She opened her mouth to simply refuse her, resisting the urge to tell Nasuada how stupid she sounded. "If I may?" Angela stood up and Nasuada's face fell in annoyance but motioned her to continue.

"No one can enter Evelyn's mind. She is not from here, or from now." The rooms occupants frowned as if on cue.

"When Eragon meant to send the egg to us, he managed to send it to Evelyn, in her world. Her world I believe is not this world's future, but another world entirely. She is from a place both far in time and in space. Her mind is on a completely different dimension or plane if you will, and her body is in ours. Her dragon Velox is acting like a bridge; connecting her to our world. Without this bridge I believe Evelyn would go insane. She would inevitably kill herself."

Evelyn imagined herself again in the desert where she first work up falling to her knees, gripping her head, screaming out in agony, trying to relive herself of the pressure building inside. The lurching nausea when all she wanted to do was vomit it out, body shaking violently from spasms and eyes pouring out tears. Then suddenly her body limply falls down into the sand—dead. She shuddered at the mental image and could feel Velox do the same. She was just over-imagining.

"Is she able to do magic?" Nasuada inquired bringing her back.

"She can, but needs much practice." Angela softly chuckled.

"Do you vow to tell the truth and only the truth?"

"Yes." _Well this is awkward…_ She thought and Velox chuckled back.

"Repeat_; Eka vili ljúga du sannindi." _She copied Arya very careful not to mispronounce. She vowed to tell the truth even though vowing it was a _lie._

"Is your name Evelyn?"

"My name is Evelyn Winston-King."

"And your dragon's name?"

"Velox, Velox Nodin."

"How old are you, Evie?"

"18."

"Are you or are you not working for Galbatorix?"

"No." she said, annoyed that she had repeat herself.

"Then will you sever the Varden as a Dragon Rider? Will you swear fealty to King Orrin and myself?

It was a simple question and should have affect on her. Her eyes wondered over to Eragon. He wasn't frowning or smiling; his face was still like he was in a daze, completely unaware or not bothered by the conversation, or was pretending to be.

He had made so many vows to so many people; she won't allow it to happen to her. Even if she can't be held to a vow she can't go around vowing to everyone who asks, it will get suspicious and confusing for her.

"I will serve _with_ the Varden. I will swear fealty to your cause, but I cannot recognize you as my leaders. I am from a different world and I do not follow these kinds of rules. I will fight along side of you but not under you."

"I will still honor you by your rightful ranks, but I can only recognize the English monarch and the American president." She said slyly.

They were silent as they took it in. She half expected Nasuada to retort angrily. Yet, strangely enough Eragon's voice piped up. It sounded more beautiful than before and was lighter and happier than before.

"You do swear you loyalty and allegiance to the Varden then?"

"If it avoids broken fingers."

"Then repeat; _Eka sudo fidelitas eða famulatus heita du Varden, wiol ai langr ai eka lífa. Vel eïnradhin iet ai Shur'tugal."_

She glanced once again at Angela and with a positive nod, Evelyn repeated Eragon very closely.

It was decided that Eragon, being the only Rider left, would be her teacher. Despite that he has much to learn himself. And his dragon Saphira will teach Velox.

It was politically important for her to meet the Dwarven King and the Elven Queen.

The dwarves will make her dragon armor and the elves will make her armor. She will also get her own tent and set of clothing. Evelyn suggested she have more pants than long skirts because of her lack of familiarity with them.

In three days time the party will leave for Tronjheim and later leave for Ellesméra

It was also decided, that in the best interests of the Varden that Evelyn and Velox were to be kept a secret. Her dragon was to be kept hidden and she had to keep herself a minimal.

She was given her own tent that very night and because of Velox's small size he was able to join her inside. Opting for Velox's warm belly instead of the bed, she curled up beside him.

His presence was soothing. A long missed friend, and her mind was at rest; they were accepted and still alive and they were happy. She smiled in her sleep.

* * *

DISCLAIMER: everyone (Velox and Evelyn are mine) belong to Paolini :)

I GOT IT WORKING SEE?!

next chapter is pretty long and ill have it up by tonight.

again does anyone recommend a fanfiction i should read? i really want to read something but i hate searching lol


	8. To the Capitals

**Chapter 8 : To the Capitals**

Three days passed and each morning Evelyn and her Dragon slept in. It didn't bother her that she wasn't really allowed to go outside because she spent all her time with Velox. She enjoyed his company immensely and couldn't get enough of it.

The food was set beside her new clothes. There were grapes and apples, a lump of meat the size of her palm, fresh bread and water. Like every morning, she curled her nose at the meat and slid it off her plate onto Velox's own pile of meat.

She decided not to eat meat because it wasn't safe to eat it. She heard stories of people getting terribly sick from eating strange food, especially strange meat and didn't know how well the meat was cooked.

Knowing that tonight her and her party were going to leave quietly in the cover of night for Tronjheim, she dressed in her old t-shirt and sweats and went out to thank Angela for everything she had done for her.

It was a difficult task to do though, since she got her own tent she hadn't been outside. She was left to having to ask for directions.

"Angela," she greeted and waved.

"Evelyn, welcome." She sat in front of her tent with a cauldron.

"I wanted to thank you for washing my clothes, you didn't have too." She tugged on her old sweat roughly.

"Think nothing of it. Though I won't understand why you chose to wear those instead of the new tunics I found for you." She raised her eyebrow quickly.

"These are more comfortable," Evelyn shrugged off.

"Silly girl. Come in." She followed Angela into the familiar tent. Standing and twirling on the sofa-like-bench was a little girl with long black hair in a white dress.

"Elva, what have I told you about standing on that?" Angela chastised the little girl.

"Not to." Elva replied in such an unholy voice and jumped down.

Taken by surprise, Evelyn leaned back. For her age she assumed some cute girlish voice but a grown woman's? She turned and faced Evelyn "You're the next rider," she said with a crooked smile. Her face was awkward like it was in some transition between a baby's and a four year olds and her eyes were bright purple.

"You are in danger."

"What?" Evelyn asked, still in shock.

"You are in danger, and are the danger."

"Wh-what do you mean by that?"

"She knows when someone is in danger. It's both a curse and gift," added Angela.

"I'm in danger? When? How?" she bent down to Elva, ignoring her strange eyes.

"All the time, never. I don't know. Leave!" the child covered her ears and ran into the back of the tent.

"Come, Evie, don't let it bother you… I will make tea, and then you have to go see Eragon."

She walked slowly, trying to follow Angela's directions but getting lost anyway. She finally found him out in a small dusty opening in the middle of the camp. It was a small practicing rink and other men were there as well, dueling and practicing with swords, clubs, arrows and other various medieval weapons. She walked around the side, trying to avoid being tackled or smacked in the face. Eragon was practicing with his older cousin, Roran and his dragon Saphira flew not far above.

"Haha! Roran you have to better than that!" Eragon, clearly, was in a cheerful mood.

At once they took notice of her and she smiled brightly at the two and waved.

"Evelyn…" Eragon said then turned his attention to Roran. "You will have to beat me some other time cousin."

"Good day, Lady." Roran greeted Evelyn as he left. She smiled goofily at being called a _Lady_.

"All right now, obviously to a rider you must know how to fight, in all its forms."

"I beg your pardon?" she said quickly in disbelief

"Yes?"

"I have never fought before, _ever_. I'm a teenage girl, I use pepper spray."

"I figured as much, but let's see what you can come up with. " He handed her a wood stick shaped like a sword and told her to take a comfortable stance, using himself as an example. Knees bent, holding the sword out with a bent elbow.

He showed a few very basic defense moves and a few offensive.

Tired, Evelyn nearly crawled to Angela's tent for a quick last minute visit but she found herself there longer than she expected.

"Can you do a favor for me? When you get to Ellesméra I want you to give this to the Queen." She handed her a folded piece of parchment. "It's very important that you do."

"Yes, I will. Good bye Angela and thank you so much for everything you did, really." She hugged the brunette.

"Yes. Now promise me you'll stay out of trouble."

It was dark now; the sun had completely fallen. She difficultly made her way back to her tent, at times having to turn around and retrace her steps back home. As opened the tent door she jumped back when she noticed a figure sitting on a chair.

"I'm sorry, did I frighten you?" Eragon asked getting up to help her.

"No," she swallowed. _Did you know he was here?_

_Yes…I found it quite humorous._ Velox smiled.

"I knew you were at Angela's, so I waited for you, I let myself in, I hope you don't mind."

"No," she said still clearing her throat.

"We are ready to leave, everything is packed and set."

She quickly packed all she had, which was very little. She was given two leather bags with drawstrings on the top. She packed all her Earth clothing and her new clothing and slid Angela's letter in her pocket.

Evelyn wrapped a green blanket around herself and hopped into the back of a wagon behind Velox. She heard Saphira push off the ground and disappear into the sky and then fell asleep.

………

The company traveled for six days to the dwarven capital of Tronjheim. They left Feinster at night and followed the Jiet River into Surda and then headed east towards the Beor Mountains. The group avoided the public as best as they could, passing the small Surdan villages; Cithrí and Petrøvya.

At night they stopped for camp. Evelyn slept inside one of the wagons with Velox, she and Eragon shared a watch while the rest of the company slept.

She sat on the back edge of the wagon with her green blanket wrapped around herself to keep warm.

"You married your cousin? How old are you?" she asked, after he finished.

"Seventeen in two months."

"Seven—really? I thought you were older than me." He shook his head. "How long have you been a Rider?"

"Since I was fifteen, almost a year."

"When is your birthday," she asked kindly.

"February."

"So, it's early December." She said to herself. "Mine's in December, the 24." She returned to him.

"That is very soon." He smiled, "You will celebrate your birthday among the elves."

She looked up at the sky and then at the sleeping bodies before changing the subject. "Should we be worried about getting attacked?"

"We should be, but I don't think we need to be too worried. Saphira has done her best to stay out of view and no one knows you're here with us. So if they do attack, it will most likely be foot soldiers. We can handle them, as long as Murtagh isn't with them. But I highly doubt they know where you are if, that is, if they know you exist yet."

"When do we get to be out in the public?" she placed a hand on Velox's green head and stroked.

"I think it will be safe enough in Tronjheim, once we get out of these open lands."

It took the company four days to get to the capital from Petrøvya. Once they reached the mountain base they took to the vase underground network of tunnels. The tunnels were high and low. Many were open spaces with stone bridges crossing the endless pits below and others were enclosed hallways with heavy lamps of fire on the walls.

The closer they got to a city the bigger and more decorated and busier the tunnels became. Tall, grand statues were carved into the stonewalls, portraying long since passed away dwarves of great importance. Atop each head was a heavy, thick helm and each had a hammer of sorts. Evelyn watched in amazement as each figure passed.

Small hairy men passed by with their own wagons grunting, others greeting Saphira and her rider with much enthusiasm. Evelyn saw the accompanying elves frown at the growing herd of Dwarves.

The tunnels quickly opened up to a massive hall with stone pillars holding up a great groin vaulted ceiling. Hanging from each arch was a chandelier made of several wooden circlets with hundreds of candles and along the walls hung smaller ones.

The hall rose up to thirteen levels, and each leave as packed as the last. On the bottom floor were market tents and shops and their busy owners and busy buyers.

The group was quickly found by a dwarf and escorted around. As they made their way into they great grey hall Evelyn tried to count the many pillars but quickly lost count and gave up.

Soon the chandeliers orange glow quickly changed to a deep red hue. Evelyn titled her head back to the source. High above them, decorating the hall was a rose in full bloom made of a blood red gem, that, when the sun hit it right, cast its red shadow down on the dwarven hall.

Evelyn's eyes followed it was they passed under it and through heavy stone doors.

They passed though considerably smaller halls and parted from their wagons.

"Eragon, my boy!" a low voice boomed.

"King Orik." Eragon said politely and bowed, Evelyn quickly copied him. "Queen Hvedra."

Orik was burly dwarf with thick red hair, which was intricately braided into his moustache and beard and decorated with gemmed metal bands. His facial hair left only parts of his cheek, forehead and small beady eyes visible. At his side was a bulky silver war hammer; Volund.

His wife, Hvedra, was shorted than her husband and also commonly hefty for a dwarf; short neck and broad shoulders. She had long brown hair, tied back in a single lose braid and wore a gold headband, that matched her dress, that ran crossed her forehead. Her face was soft and kind with rosy cheeks and blue eye on her pale skin.

"This is Evelyn and her Dragon, Velox." He introduced and the four bowed to each other.

"Aye, the new Dragon and his Rider. We have the finest armor made for you, Jurgenvren." He slammed his chest. "I am King Orik, son of Thrifk and leader of Dûrgrimst Ingeitum and this is my wife queen Hvedra daughter of Himinglada. And this is my home; Tronjheim. Welcome, Jurgencarmeitder." He waved his hand behind himself at his great stonewalls.

Evelyn and Velox were rightly introduced to the clan leaders and shown their rooms.

"How long will you be staying?" Orik asked as they strolled down his many halls.

"Not long," Eragon said honestly and lowered his voice, "We need to get to Du Weldenvarden as quickly as possible."

"I understand." He said grimly. "You will join us tonight to dine?"

Eragon nodded and Orik smiled, "good we shall have a feast." He chuckled at Saphira and she hissed out a puff of steam. Evelyn laughed, being already told of Saphira's last behavior at a dwarven feast.

They walked out side to a large balcony made of white marble. Few trees grew in small pits in the marble. Evelyn caught her breath.

Surrounding the fortress was tall, solid mountainside. She titled her head up to the very top on the mountainous wall, which curved around the city. Trough the peak she could see blue sky and white cloud. They were inside a hollowed out mountain.

Along the mountain wall was a never-ending staircase and twirling slide and large, man-size mirrors used to feed the sun's light into the otherwise dark mountain pit.

Below were grassy farmland and waterworks and gates that lead back into the mountain's tunnels. The sun bounced off the glass mirrors and cut through the darkening sky and white birds flew to their nest on the cliff side.

"Beautiful isn't it?" Orik came up beside her.

"Yes. We defiantly don't have anything like this on Earth. How big is it?" she asked leaning into the railing feeling the breeze cover her and her hair raise.

"The mountain, Farthen Dur, has never been fully climbed but the citadel is 3,000 feet high and 7, 670 feet wide. In times of misfortune it is capable of housing the entire nation of dwarves. Three time it has saved my race from destruction." He said proudly.

"Come with me, I will show you the pride of Tronjheim." They descended wide marble steps to a larger balcony that jutted farther out from the fortress's front and entered a large stone gazebo. In the middle of a spotlight, from the mirror directed sun, sat the King's throne. Above the white marble throne was the red jewel rose star. Light appeared from behind and the red hue glowed on the throne and floor.

Evelyn entered the gazebo and admired the vines that crawled up the marble pillars and the fine dwarven artwork of brave dwarven warriors.

As she walked farther into the long gazebo her stomach started to jump. It was an unpleasant sensation in her upper stomach; a sort of queasy feeling and her head became lighter by the second, as if she was going to be sick.

"Isidar Mithrim." Orik praised.

"It's beautiful." She grunted placing one hand on her keen and the other on her stomach.

"Evelyn?" Eragon rushed to her, "are you alright?"

"I think I'm going to be sick." She grunted again and placed a hand over her mouth.

"Get her to her room. Has she been poisoned?" he sounded nervous and picked her up and carried her away and Orik followed, trying to keep pace with his short legs. Arya place a light hand on the Rider's forehead but shook her disapprovingly.

They had barely gotten half way back to her room when Evie asked to be set down on her own two legs. She took a deep breath and rubbed her temples.

"I feel better now." She said slowly.

"Are you sure?"

"Yes, yes. Right as rain. I just must have been lightheaded or something. I feel much better now though."

"Strange, little kdünn begzen." The dwarf king mumbled.

Despite her protest, Evelyn was encouraged to stay in her room to rest, though she was feeling extremely well. Eragon and Saphira were in the dwarven halls, eating and laughing and such and it upset Evelyn that she wasn't invited. Before being sent to her room she requested maps of the country and ink. She planed on renaming each city by how she thought they were spelt in English.

Orik's wife, Hvedra, came and joined her in her exclusion. She was kind and had brought Evelyn her maps and food and ate with the Dragon and his Rider. Evelyn passed Velox her meat when Hvedra wasn't looking. Evelyn took a sip of her drink and burned her throat as it went down making her cough loudly. Hvedra smiled and laughed at her inability to drink dwarven ale.

Before she left she gave Evelyn a small pendant on a fine silver chain. It was the size of a penny and was an exact replica of the rose colored Isidar Mithrim. Each petal was carefully folded and crafted with extreme patience and skill. On the back was craved the symbol for Dûrgrimst Ingeitum; a hammer surrounded by twelve stars.

"A gift from Dûrgrimst Ingeitum. To remember Tronjheim when you leave." She smiled brightly and helped Evelyn put it on immediately.

Early in the morning, the crew packed Velox's new armor and Velox and Evelyn admired it as it passed them. They left quickly and silently and headed east, passing though the tunnels to the Az-Ragni River. As they did with the Jiet River, the caravan followed along the River. The river made the ground around it fertile and the air slightly cool, nonetheless, still warm. To the east Evelyn looked out to the dry, all to familiar desert. She felt a pang in her chest when she remembered her father in the desert with his expedition, and quickly busied herself with renaming the names on her map, constantly asking Eragon or Arya each city's name.

Eragon promised he would teach her to read and write but she quickly defended her pride by explaining that she could read and write, just not in Alagaësian.

Saphira flew in the sky casting a shadow in the wagons and horses. Often Eragon flew with her, but sometimes he stayed on the ground with the wagons. Evelyn grew with anticipation at the idea of flying on Velox. By the time they reach the Elven forest Velox should be a month old, nearly old enough and strong enough to carry Evelyn.

The plan was to follow the river, pass Lake Eldor and follow the Gaena River to the city of Sílthrimon Lake Ardwen. Evelyn traced and retraced the path several times on her own map and knew it by heart now.

On the second day they passed the dwarven outpost Hedarth, but chose not to visit but just make camp and leave early again in the morning.

As they distanced themselves from the dwarves, Evelyn quickly and to her dismay, realized the dark bump on the horizon she thought was her father's camp was actually, all along, the Beor Mountains.

She laughed crudely at her own plain, stupidity.

The days passed slowly and uneventfully. Saphira was high in the sky with Eragon blocking the high sun. Evelyn yawned at her boredom and Velox copied her. Earlier that morning the trees of Du Weldenvarden could be spotted on the horizon and grew bigger and bigger as they neared it. Evelyn was filled with excitement of reaching the forest but it died down during the time it took to get there.

Saphira made a low swoop and the air vibrated around her wings and into Evelyn's ears. The dragon landed quickly and not one of her many graceful landings.

"What is it?" Arya took immediate initiative.

"Murtagh." Eragon said with a strange worried tone. Arya turned around to look behind to spot the threat. Evelyn copied her, as did the rest of the convoy.

"I don't see anything." Evelyn squinted, but just as the words left her mouth she caught a red spark of light.

Her stomach dropped. She's seen him before. The red dragon.

"He's already seen me and is headed here." his worried voice made Evelyn extremely scared.

Arya stood up in her seat and ordered the rest of the elves to free the horses and leave the supply wagon behind and Eragon to busy Murtagh as they take cover in the near forest.

"They've never come this close to this side of the forest." She muttered under her breath and took a strong hold of the reins. The wagon took off with a hard jolt and she had to hold on to the sides to prevent from falling off.

The forest seemed to get farther and farther away from them as they charged for it. She heard a dragon roar, not knowing whom the voice belonged to, and she turned her head to see.

The respective Riders were just smudgy figures on their dragons she could still see them. Thor held Saphira in midair, scraping and clawing at her underbelly as she roared in protest and Evelyn winced at her sound. Thorn swiftly came down at the base of her neck and bit down hard. Her roar became a high-pitched, shrill scream.

With the strength of his hind legs, Thorn threw her down onto the ground and triumphantly spread his red wings, blocking the sunlight and his Rider's daunting red sword caught the light.

The color fell from Evelyn's face and her heart stopped at the sight.

Thorn folded his red wings against his body and shot down towards the convoy with his jaw open widely and made a low rumbling sound. Evelyn could clearly see down the dragon's throat and could clearly see the muscles convulse before seeing blue.

She covered her eyes and ducked, though knowing it would be no use.

Before Thorn's trail of fire hit the wagon Saphira swooped down and checked the red dragon of course. Evelyn heard the clash of bodies and opened her eyes.

Orange flame walled her vision off the side of the wagon. The wave of heat hit her and blew across her face and body.

"Shit," she let out, knowing how close they had come.

But Thorn did not let up; with his long tail he whipped at the wagon in last attempt to destroy them. The force of it splintered the wood, sending pieces flying and threw Evelyn off her seat on the wagon and into the air.

Her stomach jumped at the sudden feeling and crashed, rolling several times before coming to a full stop. Her back and sides ached from the fall, and she knew that soon she would bruise from them.

She pushed herself up off the ground, brushed her hair out of her face and looked at the wagon. It had, thankfully, tipped back right up but its rear was completely broken off and small pieces of splintered wood still clung on to it. Thorn's tail just managed to brush by the wagon. Everything that wasn't strapped down had been flung out and onto the ground like herself, and Velox.

The red dragon made a startled noise at the sight. Evelyn ran towards them but was stopped by an elven horse rider. She took his hand and climbed up behind him.

One of Velox's oversized wings was caught underneath him and was stuck. Thorn had managed to push Saphira off of himself and make his way to Velox. He got close enough to lower his gigantic, thorny head to Velox. Arya had been closer to Velox and darted in front of him, swinging her thin sword at him causing the dragon to twitch at the slight pain.

Saphira's blue body flew over Thorn and pinned him down harshly with her strong back legs but he tried to make a swing at Arya as she ushered Velox into the barely, standing wagon and took off to the forest.

Evelyn looked back again. Two massive, blue and red titans battled it out. They were each tackling other to the ground and trying to pin the other down and prevent them from escaping. Eragon and Saphira were trying to hold off Murtagh and Thorn to let the rest take cover in the forest. Murtagh and Thorn tried to attack the wagon before it took cover under the trees.

Once they reached inside of the dense forest, Saphira broke free of Thorn and sped to the forest and crashed in, knocking down several trees.

Evelyn could just barely see a red figure through the dense branches and leaves. It roared and hissed at the forest in anger.

"He won't dare come in here alone." Arya said in a low voice.

They waited and watched the red dragon pace back and forth just outside of the forest. Despite what Arya said Evelyn felt extremely afraid. Thorn would fly extremely close to the trees and often flew over the trees, almost brushing his sharp talons on the treetops.

"Arya," Eragon began, very quietly, "He thinks it's you."

She put her finger to her lips but frowned at what he said. Saphira hissed at his proximity. The red dragon flew around them like a hawk waiting and watching his prey.

Thorn made a move to leave, rising high in the air but swooped back down hissing fire out, lighting the trees immediately, and he departed roaring loudly.

Help quickly arrived form Ceris to escort the group the city and extinguish the fire.

Because of the sudden attack, they were forced to take refuge at the city Ceris, completely changing their previous route.

Velox had no wounds but was, just like Evelyn deeply disturbed. After Eragon tended to his and Saphira's wounds, he joined Evelyn at the table.

"How is Saphira?" she asked looking up as he sat down.

"Much better, nothing serious. How are you two holding up?"

"We're fine, just a little…" she shook her hands nervously.

"I understand." He said.

Arya walked in and sat down and clasped her hands together on the table. "Galbatorix now knows you exist." She said, holding back any sort of emotion.

"Yes, but he thinks it is you." Eragon corrected

"How so?" the elf asked.

"Murtagh was," he paused to find the right word, "enraged that it was an elf. What do you think will happen now?"

"Murtagh will tell Galbatorix, but I do not think Galbatorix will publicize this."

"Are you worried?" he asked, leaning in. it seemed for a moment he was trying to get something out of her.

"No, not yet. However, I have _never_ seen them come this far east and they certainly would never have attacked the trees before either. Galbatorix is trying to broaden his frontiers…or testing ours. If you will excuse me I must make some other arrangements. Queen Islanzadí will want hear of this." she promptly stood up and left by the same door she entered.

Two were left in silence; Evelyn played with her yellow watch and debated whether or not to ask.

"That was Murtagh, right?" still unsure if she should be asking this.

He nodded his but did not say anything and she chose to stay away from the subject. "Where are we going now?"

"Tomorrow we will leave for Sílthrim, it take two days. Then we will travel to Ellesméra, which will also take two days. I will teach you magic while we travel, we have less time than I thought." He spoke with a solemn voice.

Evelyn sat in her familiar spot on the wagon with Velox's head on her lap.

"Now to learn magic you have to know what magic is." He began.

"What is magic?" she raised her brow at him.

"Magic is," he took a deep breath, "magic is the ability to control the things around yourself. There are two types of magic; physical magic and mental magic. Physical magic allows you to change or control physical things, like moving this rock." He made a small pebble off the ground and Evelyn followed it with a blank stare. "Mental magic allows you to mentally make contact with the things around you. For example; reading a mind or scrying."

She remembered when he tried to read her mind but failed consecutively and still could not achieve it.

"To do magic you must know the Ancient Language." He went on.

Evelyn sat and listened to him explain the principals of something she previously thought was completely unnatural and impossible. She came to learn and memorize the most basic words and the importance of the mental connection with the words. Without envisioning what you wanted you could end up with something completely different.

She was also surprised at how easily and quickly the language came to her and her natural ability took off.

She was also warned against doing overzealous tasks, as they would consume her energy and from thinking magic because she could lose control and kill herself.

They finally reached the forest capital in the bright morning. The capital was nothing like the pervious cities. The trees seemed bigger, taller and thicker, the branches could almost be thought of single trees in themselves. As the sun rose, it continued to trickle through the leaves and branches on the city.

Each building was in fact a tree house build on one of the many massive trees. None of the houses had walls, but instead looked like elegant bird cages made of curving branches. Around each trunk was a winding staircase and long, evidently sturdy, bridges swung from tree to tree at different levels and directions.

Free birds flew from tree to tree chasing each other and wild rodents scurried around on the mossy houses tops and along the bark.

On the ground, deer and fawn sat happily in the cool shade undisturbed by their passing. Stone paths led to doors at the base of the trees. Evelyn could not understand how they howled out the trunks and not fear that the trees would tumble over.

Before they got far into the city, a small party of people greeted them. The Elves. The Queen walked toward them with her ivory hands folded in front of her. Behind her a few of her followers copied her.

She wore a soft, pale, floor length red dress with gold folds and stings tied around her waist. The neckline swoop across her shoulders and fell behind her and trailed behind in a lose cape. Her long black hair reached to her thigh and hung loosely. On top of her head she wore a gold circlet. On her shoulder sat an old white raven with black eyes.

"Wyrda!" it piped.

"Welcome," she spoke softly. "I am terribly sorry for the attack on you, we did not suspect them to be so brash. I am very pleased to see you well, now. Times are changing, I fear that soon our great barks will no longer keep us safe."

She tilted her head back slightly, brushing off her sadness. "The Green Dragon and his Rider." Evelyn bowed to her and the queen stretched her long arm out, letting all the gold ribbons dangle and Velox reached his green nose to touch her. "The strange one." She whispered.

"You will go to Craigs of Tel Nair, to continue your training. Oromis' studies are to your free use."

…………

It was dark. It was red, there was blood and hot embers fell from the sky like glowing snow.

The sky was nonexistent and the ground was dry and hot. Bloody and broken swords, shields, armor and axes covered the ground in heavy, mass piles, leaving small slithery-like paths around her, but there were no bodies to which the armor belonged.

Evelyn wore no shoes and felt the dry earth crumble underfoot, the dry air rippled through her black hair and white dress. Her skin and dress glowed with a heavenly silver light. She was an angle in this red hell.

She spun around when she heard a low thud, but saw only red smoke and fire. She heard it again and spun around but could not see it. But she knew what it was; she's heard it before.

Panicking, she lifted up the hem of her thin dress and ran down one of the dirt paths, jumping over stray swords and helmets.

The noise grew louder and louder and as she turned her head and looked over her shoulder, she saw a large shadow in the red smoke.

She nearly tripped over the dead soldier's armor when she pushed herself to run harder.

The smoke started to thin and she began to feel safe as the thudding noise died. She ran and ran until she came to the end of the ground. Evelyn stood at the rocky edge of a cliff. The wind was stronger here and nearly whipped her hair off her head. Down below the cliff was black on fire. It was a village or a battlefield, she couldn't tell the difference. It was all burning ash.

_Thud._

She heard it again.

She knew he was close but didn't bother in turning to see how close. The ground shook as he touched down. Evelyn couldn't move, her fear wouldn't allow it. She felt his hot breath on her back and she trembled from it.

Knowing there was no escape, and knowing she had no other choice, Evelyn slowly faced around.

The dragon was crouched low to strike and his blood wings arched into the sky. His head, the size of Evelyn's standing body. It was an ugly, scarred face with rips and holes in the thin membrane on his head and wings. His sharp fangs hand grown too much and pierced through his own lips and through the top of his jaw and many of his facial spikes were broken or completely ripped out of their sockets and trickled out blood.

Thorn puffed hot smoke at her and licked the air around her with his long black, forked tongue and she tricked flinch. Bloody saliva dripped from tooth to tooth and out his mouth; his breath was foul.

Thorn pulled back his wings like a red curtain, revealing his rider. The figure shone brilliantly in his steel armor.

Evelyn glowed with a soft, seemingly natural light from insider her, while this man cruelly and crudely reflected the harsh firelight. She did not move as he approached her, she felt saddened but still very, very afraid.

He was tall, towered over Evelyn's small figure and she felt herself shrink as he drew nearer with each heavy step.

His broad shoulders were accentuated by his heavy armor. He wore many layers of steel armor with red and gold trim and designs and attached with large gold clasps his red cape hung and waved behind him in the strong wind. At his side he unsheathed his red sword and held it out, not defensively or offensively buy only scare her, which it did, very well. When he took off his helm the wind blew his hair around his head and face. His hair was long, to his shoulders and as black as raven's feathers. His milky white eyes were cruel and soulless; Evelyn couldn't hold her gaze to them and looked away.

As he got closer everything seemed to fade into him, even the deadly fire. He screeched an ungloved out at her and see saw his missing finger and she backed away, finally able to move. His face still emotionless looked down upon her.

"Murtagh," was all she was able to say.

"So it would seem." He said in a low, stoic voice.

"Ah." Evelyn gasped as she sat up in her bed. All her bedding had been thrown to the ground from her nightmare. Her nightmare. It had seemed so real, too real. She touched her face and then looked down at her arms and sighed in relief, she was fine.

Velox hadn't woken up and Evelyn wasn't going to wake him. She got out of her bed and walked over to her windowseat and breathed in the cool air. The moon's light shone down onto the grass and trees giving them a silver sparkle. Evelyn sighed and looked up at the great white moon and admired its fullness, feeling that it must be bigger than the one back home.

She lowered her eyes to the small rivers and streams at the base of the trunks, the water sparkled in the moons grace and the long silver elven boats barely swayed on the surface.

A tall, slender figure walked by the boats and looked up in Evelyn's direction; it was the Queen. Evelyn admired her grace and beauty and how much she resembled her daughter but quickly remembered Angela's letter.

Evelyn picked it up and made her way down to the boats.

"You have something for me." Queen Islanzadí touched the surface with one of her long fingers and the water barely rippled at her soft touch. Evelyn handed her the small parchment letter and she gently took it.

"From Angela," the elf queen's face dropped, "there is only one thing her writing could be of." She read it several times and with whispering the words, lit the letter on fire until there was nothing but grey ash left, Evelyn's brow furrowed at the sudden action.

"Much is changing." Evelyn followed Queen as she spoke. "I can see only as far as the roots grow but I listen to the words of outsiders. I know what is happening. I will not lie to you or hide my feelings from you, I am indeed very afraid. Galbatorix would never have attacked Du Weldenvarden before… he is growing stronger. He will attack when we are at our weakest. You are a Dragon Rider and it is your fate to bring Galbatorix to his end…fate has not been kind to this land."

Evelyn shook her head, her dream still vivid in her mind, "no, I can't do it."

"The world needs you, would you be so unkind to deny them a chance at a free life? I know what it is you saw, in your dream. I see all that happens in my woods. But you were chosen, not any other human, nor elf, but you. A dragon will hatch when it feels it's rider. It has been you and always will be you. Your life will be filled with the hardest decisions ever made. I can only hope you will chose the right one, and not the easier one."

"Then I know which choice I must make."

Islanzadí smiled kindly and placed her hand on Evelyn's shoulder, "the nightmares will no longer come, return to your bed and sleep. You start early tomorrow."

"Fate is indeed cruel," Islanzadí whispered as Evelyn left to return to her bed.

Evelyn began taking a new favour to the colour green. She was surprised that she would soon start to alter because of the effects of being a Dragon Rider. Her eyes, for one, would slowly turn green and she would also see green as a more prominent colour. Her face would also change, taking on a more elven look with angular shapes and she would become stronger and more agile.

She was a good and hardworking student; listened well and performed most of Eragon's tasks to his liking. Eragon was a good teacher, though he tried to be strict and obedience demanding like his teacher, but failed.

Each day, Evelyn would learn from Eragon, and Velox from Saphira and in some cases the group would do lessons together, usually on flying.

Evelyn's first flying lessons had not gone well.

She could not find her bearing and numerous times almost fell off. Velox was a good flyer but often got too excited in the air, making Evelyn bounce all around on his back.

The idea of not being full strapped into her saddle and being forced to use her abs and thigh muscles did not let her relax much and with her not being relaxed she could not focus on keeping good contact between her and Velox.

The queasy feeling didn't help much either.

Once Velox landed she rolled off him and vomited onto the ground. "I hate roller coasters." She moaned.

Overall the two learnt the importance of Rider-Dragon connection and eventually flying became more natural and more about the proper use of magic. At each start of the day she mediated alone to improve her mental peace of mind and therefore her mental power and quickly became an ace at magic. It was because of her mind being cut off from the rest she was able to work so easily with magic, there was less to distract her, whereas others would need to open their minds to perform magic.

She created sort of beautiful fairths and learnt to sing plants into shape.

As Eragon learnt from one of Oromis' text and taught Evelyn, he was learning new things himself, such as; Velox was in fact a _Skjótfœri Skulblaka_ or, in rough translation, a Speed Dragon. Just like every species there are races in them and Velox was a different race than Saphira. Velox was shorter than most other dragons but he was longer and was not as wide either, his entire body was aerodynamic. He had a lean body and was built for speed. Saphira and Thorn are _Megin Skulblakas_ or Power Dragons. In a fight Saphira would win without hesitation but in a race Velox would win by far.

However her skill at fighting was embarrassing, despite Eragon's best efforts. She was good at dodging his attacks but could never hit him back and when she did it was to little or no effect.

Despite her inability to fight she had to have a sword, so they visited a blacksmith; Rhunön.

She was hunched over her forged when they entered. Her long white hair was tied back into braids.

"Rhunön." Eragon greeted.

"Ah, Eragon, so nice to see you again," she stopped what she was doing to greet,

"Rider Evelyn, so nice to meet you."

"Rhunön, Evelyn is in need of a sword. I thought that if I made it with you, like when you made mine, it would be alright."

"Hmm yes I suppose, it is true when I made Brisingr it was by far my best work. But before we make sword I have something for you." She pointed at Evelyn and moved over to a mannequin-like figure and pulled off the cloth. Hanging on its hanger was white-silver armor and laced around it was gold markings.

It was beautiful work that much she could tell but her stomach dropped. It looked too much like Murtagh's armor from her nightmare.

"Upon hearing your arrival in Silthrim I took the liberty in making your armor. I used a small amount of Brightsteel in the making to give it a sturdy hold." She hit it with her strong fist to prove its sturdiness, anyone could tell she was extremely proud of her work.

"How did you know my size?" she tapped the side of her nose, winked and with a smirk she said; "I can't be giving away all my secrets…"

The sword was equal in beauty with the armor. It was a deep green, the same as Velox and had matching gems of all shades of green. The handle was white-sliver with designs of dragonheads. The scabbard was green with white-sliver and gold Celtic knots.

"What do you christen it?"

"I have to name it?" she asked. She spent a while thinking. It was green and she felt that would match its color. She began calling it things, such as leaf or the ancient word for tree, hoping one of them would stick.

"Earth." She said holding it up. "Yes, Earth." She smiled at her earth green sword, how perfect.

On their way back Eragon insisted they take a different route, as there was something she had to see before she left the forest.

She gasped when it came into full view; it was diffidently something she had to see before she left Du Weldenvarden. A gigantic tree ten acres large with massive roots crawling around its base. It was the heart of the city.

"This is the Menoa Tree." Eragon said and explained the legend behind it.

Just as she took a step closer her head began to squeeze and her stomach started to jump, like before. But she held it in.

"Eragon." She said through teeth and placed a light hand on her temple, "if you will excuse me, Velox is unwell."

"What? Do you need any—"

"Oh, no, no. He'll be fine just stomach flu or upset stomach." She tried not to grunt out.

Velox grunted, unpleased at having to take her blame. She told him she couldn't have Eragon worried at her being sick. She avoided the tree at all cost and Eragon made it difficult every time he tried to encourage her to see it.

Three months passed. Both she and Eragon celebrated birthdays among the elves. Evelyn was now 19 and Eragon was now 18. But too much time passed and the Dragon Riders were too much in need.

Evelyn gathered all the things she needed and left behind the dresses and other dainty things in her tree house.

She glanced around at it once more. "I fear that this will be the last time we will see this place."

* * *

DISCLAMER : they belong to Paolini Velox and Evelyn belong to me

So.. Murtagh showed up…sorta.

And yes Eragon's birthday _is_ in February and Murtagh's _is_ in April.

I took a bit of liberty on Farthen dur and Tronjheim because I could not, for the life of me, remember what it looked like.

And I know Islanzadí was out of character but I don't care she's only in the story for a short bit! Wa!

AND LAST... any fanfiction recommendations ?


	9. To Narda

Thank you for all your reviews and support and your fanfiction recommendations! I am currently reading Eldunari by wildskysong and it's fantastic! And much better than mine, I suggest you go and read it, really. And I am also reading Antiphony by Cantare (a Jasmine/Mozenrath fic from the Disney Aladdin tv series). Also very good and I recommend it even if you aren't a fan of that pair.

I've gotten so so so many reviews asking; "where is Murtagh?". Well, do not fear! …he's coming. He WILL be in the 11th Chapter, a bit in the 10th .

Also super thanks to/ for Inheriwiki. That site has really made this whole story possible. Go check it out.

Again thank you for your time and reviews and I hope you enjoy it.

* * *

**Chapter 9 : To Narda**

(For Narnia!)

Her training was as good as it was going to get though her fighting skills were barely passable. She didn't feel worried or nervous because the idea or the weight of what she had to do, will do hadn't hit her yet. Deep down she knew she wasn't ready.

Idea of battle did not frighten her. Battles, in her mind, have always been romanticized for her, the effect of television and old fairy tales. The idea of death in a battle did not enter her mind, the idea of pain did not cross her mind and the idea of fear in a battle defiantly did not.

She would be brave, like Lionheart or William Wallace. Her blade would cut, her armor strong, her dragon fierce. She would be victorious and her name would be feared on the battlegrounds. She would become a legend.

She would be malicious, like the state of Qin to the state of Zhao or Prussians to the French. Her blade would cut flesh and take lives, her armor would shake and she would bleed, her dragon would flee from fire lit arrows. She would be in pain and her sword broken. She would be a no face solider. She would not become a legend.

A battlefield was a house of death and she has never killed.

None of this occurred to her. Why should it? She never grew in a world where brave knights and steel swords were commonplace.

This time Evelyn rode her own horse, a grey stallion by the name of Felinor, instead of having to sit in the wagon. Though she was wishing she was sitting on the wagon instead. Her muscles were sore form the constant sword and flight work she had done. One would think that the pain would subside, but it didn't.

Night had fallen when they began to leave. The trees and grass sparkled silver from the moons spotlight. The elves all wore deep velvet robes that grazed the ground beneath them and carried with them long spears with gold daggers on the end.

As they walked soundlessly out of the city the few Elves who remained behind did not wave or cry at the departing people but titled their heads gently as they passed by. This was enough for them.

The air was filled with a beautiful song of lamentation in their language. It panged in her heart to see strong and wise deal with the pain so solely, but this was their way.

Evelyn saw Queen Islanzadí amongst the sliver foliage. Evelyn thought she saw the Queen smile sadly but she bowed her head to quickly to know for sure.

They rode for two days to the city of Osilon and a day more to the edge of Du Weldenvarden. Each day many more Elves joined the quiet march. None smiled or cried, but carried themselves with a cold, stiff dignity and it made Evelyn uncomfortable.

When they reached the edge of the forest the snow began to pile up and when asked Eragon explained that it was because the elves sang the air warm and so the snow never touched the forest, keeping it warm and beautifully green all year around.

Palancar Valley stretched between the forest edge and the mountains of the Spine. It was the birthplace of Eragon and where his Dragon Saphira hatched.

The Elves had taken the human city Ceunon with such ease it should hardly be called a victory. As was as if the Elves walked into the city and by the mere sight of them it was surrendered.

Despite being taken by the Elves and their assumed dislike for the residents of Ceunon, the humans were free to walk and continue on with their daily lives, though having the Elves there was far from normal. Those who resisted the Elves new order of law and the Elves themselves were quickly dealt with.

All throughout the valley, the Elves set up camps and battle quarters and assumedly claimed and took hold the land, becoming a strong threat to the Empire, despite their loss at Gil'ead.

Their plan was to take hold of northern Alagaësia as Surda and the Varden would subdue the south and by doing so, they would surround Galbatorix's shrinking Empire.

The Elves' next attack was set on the port city of Narda, still a strong Empire allied city. Their plan of action was to cross the mountains of the Spine and attack the city. Though the attack was eminent and Narda would have plenty of time to per, they would still have the upper hand; the resistance had not one, but two dragons fighting and any such used full help would be to far away to aid in time.

The route took them along the North Sea, and later crossing it at the mountains that surround Carvahall and pass Therinsford and resting at the mountain base of Mount Utgard.

There were no towns on that route and they were safe from any eyes. The last town they passed was Ceunon and that was earlier that morning and Evelyn still did not know how much longer it would be until they reached the mountain base.

By midday she could see a small bump on the horizon. Telling by the charred lumps, it was once a town. Looking at it from a distance it looked like a black smudge floating on a snow-white canvas. It place is—was Carvahall, Eragon's home.

They did not pass through it because their route did not take them through it but they did pass by close enough. Evelyn watched Eragon carefully; his eyes lingered at the village, remembering most likely.

She watched him, careful not to be caught staring. She acknowledged that she didn't know what he was feeling and was thankful for it.

As they distanced themselves from the village they passed other outside farms and huts. One particular called to Eragon and he steered his horse to it and Evelyn followed. He dismounted his horse and knelt in the cold snow and as he did this he unsheathed his sword, stabbed it in the ground and rested he head on the hilt.

Evelyn did not move despite her curiosity and respected his space. As he remained there for a short moment the air whipped his frozen brown locks at his face and neck and the wind created small snowdrifts around his knees and feet.

Finally he stood up and walked over to the once-was-barn-house and with magic carved something into the wood. She squinted her eyes and read; _'Here lies Garrow. Loving father of Roran Stronghammer and uncle of Eragon Shadeslayer. May you rest in peace and never be forgotten.'_

"He's in a better place, now." He did not make any gesture as to hearing her.

They advanced southwest along the mountain foothills of the Spine, a mountain rage as had quickly become familiar with. To her right she could see the mountain Utgard. She remarked at how steep it was and if it where in her world, it would probably be a famous favorite among mountain climbers.

They entered the steep thick forest on the foothills for cover and began their ascent.

Evelyn jumped up when she heard the alarm. Velox flipped his scaly ears to the noise. _What's going on? _

Arya came into her tent and ordered, "Get dressed."

Evelyn slipped on a pair of thick wool pants and a long-sleeved under shirt with leather braces on her forearms and a tunic over them. Arya handed Evelyn her chain mail.

"What's this?" she said anxiously.

"You must put this on."

"What. Wait, why?"

"Galbatorix's army is here."

"_What_? How did they find us?"

"I do not know. But we have no time to flee."

"How many are there?"

"An infantry battalion."

"So that's—that's what a," she shook her head trying to remember what a battalion was. "Around 1000 men, right? How many do we have?"

"1500."

"Fifteen—what?" She slapped her forehead. "Only 500 more? This is hopeless."

"Murtagh is with them."

Evelyn groaned loudly and slumped down onto her bed. "I cannot fight him." She said plainly.

"Put this on," Arya help up her chain mail.

Evelyn sat on top of Velox back, latched into the saddle with her own fear. Saphira stood beside them and stretched her wings confidently. She shook and thanked that her helmet was down over her face. She played with the hilt of her sword to get it to sit comfortable in her hand but shook too much. The young girl closed her eyes and counted backwards, trying to calm her breathing to be even and slow. Velox moved underneath and she moved with him, she could feel his muscles twitch when he moved them.

The elf army was lined up in sections according to regiments and weapons. Large swordsmen and heavy weapons in front, swordsmen and archers in second, the horsemen. Eragon was off to the far left; leading his own section, among them was Arya and his twelve elven spellweavers.

Far out to the southeast, on the horizon, a dark mod moved, getting bigger and bigger like swarm of ants coming out of the ant hole.

Evelyn swallowed her dry throat away.

The ant like men swarmed over the hillside, getting closer. The elves tensed; ready to fight.

Saphira jumped into the air and Velox, unasked, followed. Evelyn lurched forward when her weight shifted suddenly. Evelyn muscle in her body was tense when they rose into the air and she held onto the saddle for dear life. She cursed repeatedly in her mind.

Below the people were as small as little black bugs but Evelyn refused to look down at the ground.

_**Skölir nosu**_

The men met violently; most of the men died instantly form the elves fatal slashes. Blood already stained the white snow.

Velox followed Saphira and swooped down at the Empire's men and held his talons out to stab and grab. Evelyn slammed her eyes shut at the sickly feeling of free falling. He repeated this, and more so when avoiding arrows, Evelyn grunted uncomfortably, trying to hold it all in.

Archers took aim and fired when the dragons dove down. _Evelyn_! Yelled to get her attention.

_Skölir nosu,_ she held out her hand to shield them from the arrows, nearly coming too late.

_Use your magic!_ Velox ordered and roared angrily at the same time.

"_Jierda thierra kalfis!" _Evelyn shivered as the men's legs broke underneath them. _Velox. Velox I can't do this._

'_GRAHHAR!' _A low roar sounded from the south; a dragon, a red dragon. _Velox, it's Thorn…_

Velox flapped himself away but Thorn already saw them. Thorn twisted himself around so he could fly parallel with Velox. Evelyn lifted her head at Murtagh but could see his face because his helm covered it. Thorn suddenly bit at Velox's neck causing him to jerk away and Evelyn almost falling off.

The stronger two crashed the smaller ones onto the ground. Velox! My leg! She cried when her leg was caught between the ground and the saddle. With a few rocky movements he rolled off her and she padded her leg down for injuries.

She lifted herself up with uneasy strain and unsheathed her green sword. Now Murtagh had them on the ground he would use this to his advantage. He would easily take care of the Rider as Thorn did the same for the adolescent dragon. The elf rider was weak from the crash, he could tell as she gripped hard on to her leg.

_Velox I need a distraction. Anything! _

Velox, who was in the sky being pursued by Thorn, incorporated a low sweeping motion close to Murtagh's head. The red rider ducked and avoided Velox's attack in time.

Evelyn ran in the opposite direction as Velox momentarily confused Murtagh. Her sword and armor were heavy and she hated how they clanged and clunked when she ran.

"_Thrysta Vendrin!"_ Murtagh reached his gedwëy ignasia at her and with the force of magically compressed air she was pulled off her feet and onto the ground on her back.

She jumped onto her feet and with him so close now she had no other action left other than to fight him. With two hands on the hilt she swung side to side, aiming for his torso. In one of her swings he moved completely to the side and hit her back with the board side of his blade and she tumbled forward from the blow, barely able to catch herself.

"_CLANG_," her armor sounded and rattled on her back.

She spun around before falling thinking of lunging at him. The snow clumped underfoot making it all the more difficult. Murtagh took advantage of this slip up.

It was a sickening feeling. With one single hand he stabbed his sword at her. It so easily found it's way between her armor plates and so easily broke through her chain mail and like a hot knife through butter, the sword slipped into her skin. Slicing veins, ripping tendons apart and cutting through muscles, even feel the cold metal scrap roughly against the bone.

She gasped soundlessly at the pain, dropped her sword and clutched at the wound. It was under her armor and all she felt when raised her hand was torn metal and his sword. Her legs gave way and she fell onto her knees onto the ground.

Less smoothly than his entry the red rider pulled out his sword from her shoulder and she jerked at the painful movement. All muscles twitched and convulsed at this new and unpleasant feeling. She felt the warm blood trickle down her front and down her arm.

She held out her hands to break her fall when she leant too far forward. The normally soft force vibrated though her magnified by her current position. She held in her breath—the first wave of throbbing pain. Over and over like a hot liquid poured onto of her.

She gasped, sucked in sharp breath and rolled over onto her back, sobbing loudly and chocking on her own saliva. Above her Murtagh stood with his sword held to her neck, knowing she could move anyway.

'_Shwoooish.'_

Murtagh stumbled back. Something hit him—an arrow. An arrow hit him in the arm. Evelyn strained her head up to see this but her punctured muscles screamed at her not to. Any use of her upper torso was gone and began to cry out in pain on the snowy ground.

"Oh god, help me. Help me. Help me. Velox." She moaned coarsely.

Eragon lowered his bow and prepared his sword. Murtagh pulled out the arrow from his armor without a second glace and lazily twirled his sword in his one hand. Eragon yelled at his brother as he ran at him with his sword ready to strike.

They met with their swords above their heads, both struggling to gain dominance and the upper hand.

"_Thrysta __snjár!" _Murtagh launched snow at his brother but Eragon quickly blocked it.

"_Skölir eka!" _Eragon said but still bounced off Murtagh lightly. Murtagh swung Zar'roc and Eragon barely ducked away from it.

"_Frjósa __du __snjár __unin __íss!" _Eragon intuitively turned the snow into ice under Murtagh's feet.

Evelyn had come to the point were she was entering and leaving her own strange unconsciousness from the shock. Her body no longer convulsed or shook, but lay there. Her breath was harsh and heavy in comparison. Her lids were heavy and eyes started to roll back into her head.

'_Arrgghhh!'_

Eragon was hunched over, clutching his hand and Murtagh stood triumphant over him with both Zar'roc and Brisingr. "A finger for a finger, Brother!"

Murtagh jabbed Eragon with magic knocking him over and holding him at sword point for a few moments before saying, "I won't kill you," and he tossed the blue sword down beside his brother in the snow.

He walked away from his brother, not afraid of any attack to his back. He picked up Evelyn harshly and she grunted half-alive.

"Murtagh!" Eragon cried at him. Murtagh turned around to the call but held Evelyn close to him for chance.

Eragon got up and took a step closer but stopped when Murtagh pressed the sword harder against her neck.

"Don't make me." He said tested.

"You wouldn't."

"Are you so certain?" he cocked his head to the side, referring of Oromis and Glaedr.

Murtagh was much taller than Evelyn and for him to stand comfortable while he confronted Eragon Evelyn had to stand on her toes to avoid leaning into the blade. Her head was light and cold and it took her best efforts to remain conscious but her head lolled to the side weakly.

"Murtagh, please, there is still time, still a chance." Eragon pleaded, trying a different approached, "I understand what a true name is, I can help, you can stop all this."

"Don't mock me! You have already played that tune with me…" he was silent and for a moment, accidently his emotion slipped into his voice; he sounded hurt and stressed, but was soon gone and was back to his original state. "Galbatorix will be disappointed you have eluded my grasp once more. However his disappointment will not be long lived!"

"Come after us Eragon and I _will _kill you. Brother or no brother," he yelled over her head.

Her sight started to flash black and white from her light-headedness and began to become overwhelmingly nauseous.

Thorn gracefully flew behind his master; Evelyn was mounted on top and Murtagh behind her.

"Tell your Dragon to follow us." He leaned into her ear to speak as Thorn took off.

"No," she moaned weakly. Her stomach jumped at the feeling of flying.

Grabbing hold of the neck of her chain mail, he leaned her dangerously over the edge of Thorn's saddle. Down below the fight had become a smudge of black in her blurred eyes.

"Tell your dragon to follow or I will let go and before dragon can catch you I will break his wings. Do you understand?"

"Yes." she gasped loudly with fear of the thought.

"Then tell him."

_Velox please follow us…_

_If he drops you I _will_ catch you_

_We cannot take the risk!_

_I _will_ not go_. He said diffidently.

_You have to, please. For me, I can't bear it if you die._

He showed his agreement with lowered head and defeated followed Thorn. Evelyn welcomed such a soothing unconsciousness.

* * *

Evelyn is clearly not a very good Dragon Rider…

I think it would be a very logical thing that Murtagh would go for Evelyn/Velox instead of Eragon/Saphira because that way he would still be in the good graces of Galbatorix and wouldn't have to capture his own brother and he doesn't know Evelyn so she doesn't really mean anything to him. Right?

Did anyone notice something strange with the magic? Hint; it's not a grammar mistake.

the To Narda thing reminded me of 'For Narnia!'


	10. To Urû’baen

**Chapter 10 : To Urû'baen**

_I _will_ not go_. The dragon said diffidently.

_You have to, please. For me, I can't bear it if you die._

He agreed just as the cold unconscious took over from the gapping wound on her chest.

It was very cold and very dark. Her body was cold; she curled and held herself against the cold, preserving whatever life she still had.

She was prisoned in a deep narrow oubliette the only exit and window was the iron barred trap door above her head. The grey stones were slippery from the moisture, which gave life to all sorts of unpleasant feeling things. Evelyn took some comfort from the cloth on her sleeve.

From earlier experiments she found out that there were indeed people out there but they chose to pay no attention to her. With much difficulty she pulled herself on her own two feet and, first asked then begged for clean water and bandages for her wound, which was still open and unattended to.

Often a person would pass her carrying a light and that light would light up her cell for a short moment. Above her, on the ground level, people were begging, screaming, crying in pain but they went ignored by the guards. Evelyn did her best to ignore them too, as they ignored her.

They took everything from her; her armor, her leather boots, her warm embroider tunic, her plastic watch, even her necklace from Hvedra and her mother's high school ring.

"I'm going to kill him," she whispered to herself, over and over, referring to Murtagh. "I will stab his heart in front of his eyes. That loathsome, vile, mindless brute. I will kill him. "

"Oi!" she twitched up at the bars where the voice came like a wild animal, lights powerfully blinded her, she squinted her eyes weakly and saw the figure of the jail hunched over with a lit torch in his hand, "I said oi! You awake."

She moaned her response. The jailer and his keepers pulled the young woman from the hole. She shamefully stumbled about from her cold weakness. A man approached her with iron shackles and she widened her eyes enough to see this and decide to act about it.

She picked herself up and raised her hand. "Brisingr!" green fire shot momentarily from her hand but quickly leaked out in short weak spurts as her strength was sucked right out of her and fell face first, out cold, again.

She was slumped on the floor on her knees, her hands were in shackles held up above her head by chains to the ceiling of the small prison hold. The spell took too much from her in her weak state, rendering her unconscious and while she was in this state, the guards moved her to the small cell room.

As duely expected, the Imperial King arrived. He was a broad man with a heavy cape, that when he walked would flutter about like black wings. Around his neck he wore grey animal pelts. He had an ugly face with longish features, hallow black eyes and a long scar that traced from his lower ear to chin, but, if you are willing to believe, he was once beautiful.

"I cannot say you what I expected." He started with boredom, like that phrase was apart oh his everyday and was beginning to tire of repeating it. "I am beginning to feel, as of lately, that the definition of a Dragon Rider has changed. Strong, feared, powerful men and dragons, but what do I find? Weak women and prepubescent farm boys."

He finally looked down at the girl, realizing she had not heard a word he spoke. He coldly nudged her with his boot and pulled her face back by her fringe. Her face was white and her eyes closed with her mouth partly open. Unsympathetic to her state he let go of her hair and her head sagged between her shoulders.

"Wake her up," Galbatorix waved his hand to a guard but paused and said, "This is really is no way to treat someone. Prop her up!"

On cue her limp body was lifted from the ground by the chains on her hands via a pulley system over head. The guard splashed her dangling shape with a bucket of stale water.

"Ah!" she whelped and jerked at the cruel wakening. She shivered when the cold air touched her wet skin and spat out the drops that ran into her mouth from her face.

"Tell me," he continued lazily, "when and where does the Varden plan to attack?"

"I don't know." She shivered and tried to ease the weight off her wrists.

With the back of his hand he brushed the collar of her tunic aside revealing the still open wound. "Ah, it would seem our dear Murtagh has left quite an impression on you." The king painfully jabbed his finger in her wound.

Evelyn screamed and shrieked, begging him to stop but the king shook his head pretending not to hear her unless she gave him his answer.

"Narda." She let out and he stopped. "Please. The last place they where headed for was Narda. It's the last place I know."

"Narda?"

"Yes, that is where we were headed before we were ambushed." Her head hung low.

She was betraying them. She felt worse because really, she felt as if she had betrayed Angela, Saphira, Eragon and Hvedra most. They were the ones who took her in and cared for her and the ones who taught her and the ones she really knew.

"Is that all?" he looked around her face, examining it like prey.

"Yes, it is all I know."

Galbatorix paused then turned away with the oddest behavior. When faced back to Evelyn he sharply backhanded her across the face. She hissed out in pain.

"I give you this warning girl, if you do not yield your mind, the consequences will be grave, much worse than a slap or stab to the chest."

She turned to face him with defiant eyes. "You can't enter my mind. No one can."

He swung his hand back at her, this time the other check for her disobedience. The hard metal of his ring bruised her face.

"I suffered an accident when I was younger. I can do magic and vow my loyalty and my word but not the mind reading._" _

"Then prove it!" he seemed more intimidating than before, "tell me the truth in the ancient language."

She started and stumbled on few words and their conjugations. She stared him down, showing her confidence in herself, only to make herself seem believable and her plan foolproof. But she knew all to well that he did not trust her. She wouldn't either, if she did not have full control of someone who had the chance to jeopardize my plans.

He remained quite, but all the while eyed her cautiously.

Just as he was leaving, leaving her to remain suspended via chains from the ceiling, he stopped by the door with his back still facing her.

He took a deep, over-exaggerated breath. "I need your help Evelyn. The old order, as wonderful as it sounded, was not." He looked back at her with a sadden face. "Those riders were fools, _played_, they were. The Elders were cunning puppeteers."

"What do you mean?" she asked, tilting her head to the side carefully.

"The _old order_ only aided those they wanted to. _Those who could afford it_. Urgals savagely attacked my town, the riders would not help, no one helped. Not one. I watched my mother die." He closed his eyes to the memory and spoke, "Do you know how that feels Evelyn? I vowed on my mother's grave to put end to the _old order's_ reign."

Evelyn felt uneasy. She could not tell if he spoke the truth or not. His voice carried a depth of pain to it and despite his earlier actions; she felt a pang of pity for him. She gave him a look of sympathy and appeared to open her ears more to his story.

"But I was seduced by the power, being in an order, in a league that equaled the gods was…was marvelous. I felt invincible. I was excelling in everything. At times I was nearly as good as the Elders themselves." His voice grew louder.

"They must have been jealous of me, _scared_ of me! They planed my assassination in the cruelest way; they sent Urgals after me. I escaped…my dragon was not as fortunate. However, their failed attempt did clear my vision and I saw them for what they really were and I remembered the vow I made to my mother. I tried to show the truth of the order's ways but many were to lost to it and I could not save them. Only thirteen were saved of them was my best friend Morzan. We called ourselves _Forsworn _and together we set out renewed the order. Alas, all have died leaving me alone to fight for our cause. But those damn proud elves will not see the errors of their ways and wish to see themselves as ruler of all Alagaësia! That is why I need your help Evelyn; with you we can bring true peace and order, honest order to this torn land.

"Will you join me?" he held his hand, seemingly genuinely sincere.

"If I join you, will you promise to set me down?"

"Yes." Galbatorix stifled his annoyance.

She could agree in pretense now to save her life, he would never know the difference and she could still do what is right without sacrificing her own life. She could be the eyes and ears of the Varden. She could escape with Velox, because she had a chance with her mind.

"Yes."

"Perfect," he said smiling, "however, it is…_protocol_… that you swear loyalty." He stopped and looked over at her. "You haven't sworn to the others, have you?"

"No." It doesn't count as lying, she thought, if it is half true.

She vowed him her service, _to all extent_, and agreed to his terms.

"I think this is the beginning of a beautiful friendship." Evelyn quoted as she massaged her chaffed wrists. The guards set her down and unlocked her shackles, her weight had caused sores and her face started smarting. "When will I be able to see Velox?" she asked before he left.

"Your dragon is fine. The drug will wear out; you will be able to speak to him soon.

Galbatorix exited the room leaving his new recruit to be escorted by guards to her new permanent chamber. Waiting outside in the shadows a short clean-cut man in black. He quickly fell in step with his master.

"Milord?" he inquired. The light of the torch fell on his face. His nose was very flat and long, and he had dark, nearly pupil-less, eyes.

"Tell me Frik, who of my most loyal lord are deeply in debt to me and wish to regain my trust?" the two walked out of the dungeons, unmoved by the place and its inhabitant's voices.

"Lord Bulgin and his son, Lord Tábor and Lord Hordic."

"Tell me of Lord Bulgin." Still uninterested.

"He and his son have been sentenced to death and his family and heirs have been stripped of their titles and wealth."

"_Sentenced to death?"_ raising his eyebrows and his voice rose. He look surprised, to be honest. "When did I issue this?"

"Yes, last week milord, they were harboring fugitives and freeing imprisoned Vardens from their brigs."

"And of Lord Tábor?"

"Abused his power, you banished him and his family from court."

"Ah, yes, yes. He has a daughter, no?"

"Yes, Lady Asteria. "

"Young _Lady_ Evelyn will need a companion. Send a messenger to Lord Tábor. If he wishes to be welcomed once again in court he will send his daughter."

"It will be done, milord." The strange looking man named Frik bowed and disappeared as quick as he had appeared.

"Oh and Frik!" he stopped his servant before leaving. "I want to see Murtagh."

…

Summoned. Murtagh dreaded each time he was summoned, because every time he was he remembered that one time. The one time that changed everything; because of it he ran away, he met Eragon and his dragon. He would, at the conclusion of a long series of events, become a Rider. Thorn was always and will always be part of him, and he to Thorn; they were destined to be together. If he never met Eragon he would never be conflicting with himself and what he had to do.

If never knew Eragon he would be able to capture him easily and leave him to the mercy of Galbatorix even kill him. Yes, he could kill him. Murtagh nodded at this thought and continued walking.

The path to the throne room from his own chambers is a long and twisted, up and down stairways and corridors but having down it so many times he could do it blind folded.

Murtagh strode into the all-to-familiar room. It was dark; all the windows had been covered up with thick red curtain. The fire lit torches casted heavy shadows on the stone pillar walls. Any remnants of elf traditional art was crudely vandalized and left in their state to mock them. Half-faced and disfigured statues looked down on Murtagh.

"Milord, it is pleasing to see you well." He bowed apathetically.

"Murtagh if you must lie, you could try with a little more effort." King hadn't bothered to look at him while he spoke. Between the two was a large, circular three-dimensional of Alagaësia. Little miniatures represented the Varden and its allies and Imperial troops and forces.

"Yes, milord." Still retaining his stoic behavior.

"Enough of this chatter… Murtagh even _I_ must congratulate you. After that tremendous failures of yours; losing the third dragon egg, unable to catch Eragon, letting him go, allowing the third Dragon Rider to get away. You have redeemed your self, too an extent _however_." He paused, "they have already begun sonnets of this great capture of yours. White Rider they call her, ha! Have you met her?"

"No."

"Hmmm, I have assigned you to teach her. You have seen her fight evidently she is poor at it. It is a shame the Varden does not better prepare their _great defenders_."

"It will be done, is that all my lord wished of me?"

"No. It appears I have been neglecting these lords of mine. They are…_restless_. I hear them speak; their words seep into the walls. Do you know what they say?"

"No." _They fear and do not trust me,_ he didn't bother to say.

"They say; I am now 134 years old. To them this is an _unnaturally_ long life; their insignificant human brain cant grasp the understanding! So unsurprisingly they soon expect me to die but if I die who will catch my falling flag before it touches the ground? These petty men have been squabbling amongst themselves like children as to who will replace me."

"I have many children, scores of children. All bastards! Sons of whores, of servants, of petty, homely women and of slaves! All bastards! All unfit to carry my name. You will."

Murtagh stopped himself from shifting his weight uneasily, "Why are you doing this?"

"You have always been loyal to me, easily distracted but in the end always loyal." Galbatorix secured his control over the boy. "Your loyalty will be rewarded with title and land."

"Land?" Murtagh's ears perked at this. Since his hesitant acceptance of the inevitable, Murtagh has long sought after what is rightfully his; his home land in Kuasta.

"I have decided it is time I return to you your fathers castle in Kuasta and his title, your new title; _Lord Murtagh Morzansson of Kuasta._ And I hope you intended to join tonight's little celebration, I've invited the girl."

Murtagh gave him a blank stare, show his response.

"You _will_ attend and met her there. She has sworn allegiance but she is ignorant to what she is capable of however she is extremely easily persuaded, I believe she will prove to be a reliable weapon.

"I sent Lord Tábor's daughter, Lady Asteria to accomplish this task—I'm sure you are familiar with her?" He tutted at Murtagh's lack of response, "If she proves a disappointment you will take over. You are her age, befriend her and gain her trust. Women are putty and are easily molded—_your father knew that._"

………

Her new room was circular shaped, as she was in a tower. In her room was fireplace in the corner and in front was a large tub, more spacious and luxurious than the one used at the Varden campsite. There were a few chairs and a closed off balcony to the left of her bed. In the center of the room was a bear carcass carpet with its head and claws still attached. On the wall across from her bed was a large closet and desk.

Evelyn lay down on the soft bedding. She removed one sleeve and pulled her collar down enough to expose her wound. Every time she looked at it her stomach dropped. On her bedside a physician hovered his hand over the wound. "_Heill__sverð_

_stinga __ben, __waíse heill" _he repeated like a chant. Her skin tingled from the magic.

"There will be a scar. There is nothing I can do for it; it is the magic of the sword. All rider swords leave scars, it is their signature."

Her finger traced along the bumpy line of flesh. "Thank you. It doesn't hurt any more."

Evelyn propped herself up but her arm gave out from underneath her. Tilda and the doctor rush to her. "The muscle tissue has been re-grown, you may be weak. It is only natural." He said.

When the doctor left, Tilda helped and eased her into the steamy pool of water in the tub. Tilda was Evelyn new caretaker. She was a heavy woman in a blue blouse and white apron and bright red cheeks. She was well known among castle and was at one point Murtagh's nursemaid when he was brought to Urû'baen and her late husband, Tornac, was Murtagh's teacher. She has always held resentment for Galbatorix.

Later that day Evelyn was planed to met Lady Asteria. Guards had been order to follow her and accompany her around. From her lack of freedom she chose to annoy them by not going anywhere, making them useless, which is why Asteria would be meeting Evelyn in her own room.

Evelyn wondered what Asteria looked like and be like. Would she be nice and sweet or shy, would she have a since of humor or just be boring. Red hair or brown hair? Tall or short?

Tilda explained that Asteria was the daughter of the lord of Dras-Leona, Lord Marcus Tábor. Her father abused his power and this was the first case in nearly ten years, Galbatorix left Urû'baen to give him a slap on the wrist. So to win the king's favor Asteria has been sent, by the king's wishes. Evelyn felt sympathetic for her, being used as a pawn for her father's politics.

When Lady Asteria of Dras-Leona arrived it was like a portable candy shop walked into the room. She wore a long, brightly colored pink dress with white and dark purple trim and a heavy gold belt that hung loosely on her small hips.

She was much taller than Evelyn, whose black damp hair was still drying and had not been combed and was wearing a dark green tunic over brown, long-john like pants. She was skinny but curvy and fair skinned with long wavy blond hair framing her heart shaped face, blue eyes and pink lips.

"I am Lady Asteria, daughter of Lord Tábor of Dras-Leona."

"Hello!" Evelyn smiled kindly and held out her hand. "I'm Evie." Asteria curled her nose slightly at her hand and slowly shook it with her white-gloved one.

"Evie? What sort of name is that? Not very commonplace, surely you must have a surname or something else that won't embarrass one in public?"

"Yea I do," Evelyn tried not to sound too sarcastic or hurt, "Evelyn Winston-King, Daughter of _King_ Henry Winston, _Princess_ of Earth and Rider of the dragon Velox. But, you know, I thought Evie would be a little easier on the vocal chords."

Asteria opened her mouth to say something, hopefully sorry, but was interrupted, this time by a knock on the door. Tilda sneaked pass the two and opened the door loudly. A young woman and a tall man with orange frizzy hair walked in.

"Ah, Harriet, Edwin." Tilda sounded relived. The man, Edwin handed a letter to Tilda and placed the clothes he had helped carry on a love seat. Harriet the seamstress did the same and quietly left.

Tilda handed the letter to Evelyn. She eyed, flipping over in her hand then slid her thumb under the wax seal; Galbatorix's twisting flame and unfolded the thick beige parchment and instinctively opened her mouth to speak but nothing on the page made sense to her.

"What is it?" Tilda leaned in intently. Evelyn's face flushed with embarrassment.

"I can't read it."

"Ah! Can't read?" Asteria snorted loudly.

"No. I can read elvish and the Latin alphabet but not Alagaësian." Evelyn handed the paper to Tilda but she shook her head and was left with no other option. "Asteria would you please read this to me?" she tried not to groan, trying to take comfort in the idea of being a bigger man.

With a smirk she took the paper, her eye darted back and forth as she read bit then her blonde eyebrows met in a frown as if someone had rudely shocked her.

"Well…"she started, off clearly unhappy, "you been invited to…to… Réòull-Saman-Màni. Tonight. King's orders."

"What?" Evelyn frowned.

"Don't pretend you don't know what that is." She restored so fast Evelyn almost got whiplash.

"No I don't honestly know what it is."

"It is a ball held for the royals of the court. It is quite an honor. It is a celebration for the start of spring."

"A ball, like as in dancing? A formal thing?" Evelyn put a hand on her hip confidently. "I can do that. Am I too wear one of those." She pointed at the dresses, excited by the thought of be near people and not having to try to kill them. Evelyn danced over to the dresses and picked a white one up. "I like this one."

"Oh yes!" Tilda clasped her hands together, "you would look lovely with your hair tied back, show your beautiful neck."

Asteria left with a disgusted look, saying she too must get ready for the ball.

Evelyn undressed, and having already had a bath, changed into her white shift and sat in front of a dresser looking into a slightly distorted mirror. Every time her hand would involuntarily wonder over to her scar, Tilda slapped it away.

"If I ever meet him…ohh…I'll just rip his head off – that _Murtagh_."

"Shush, shush, until then be still, child!" Tilda was annoyed with her fidgeting.

Tilda managed to pulled her raven hair back and held it with a delicate silver circlet and silver hairpins, but lose ends fell out, mostly around her temples. The silver contrasted angelic like against her hair like a halo.

The dress she picked was white with a low boat-neck with draping sleeves with a gold band at her elbow. At her waist she wore a silver chain that matched her circlet.

"Oh so lovely! No will be able to pry their eyes off you."

Evelyn flushed at her comment and smiled. "Thank you. Compliments to the chef."

……………

The plump doorman shouted the arrival of guests as they came in through the wood doors.

"Lady Asteria Tábor of Dras-Leona…" he paused respectfully, "and Lady Evelyn Winston of _E_arth."

Now this name had caught attention. All eyes were following the pair as they descend the stairs Lady Asteria smiled to everyone and bowed to those who greeted her, completely ignoring her companion.

_Evelyn._

His brother cried that name at the battle near Utgard.

In a dress and with her hair made she looked no more intimidating than a mouse to a cat. She was very small. In fact every thing about her was small and short.

She was a good two heads shorter than he and was skinny with no womanly curves at all. Her face was small but not entirely out of proportion with the rest of her body, her nose was thin and her lower lip was considerably smaller than her upper.

Her long dark eyelashes overpowered her dark eyes and her hair was the shortest he had ever seen on a woman. She had rosy cheeks and bronzed skin; most women had pale almost white skin.

She clashed with every woman in the room, which earned her curious glances from both women and men.

"My sister said she was pretty _at most_. I shall chastise her for lying." The man beside Murtagh, Lord Marcus II Tábor, chuckled. "Asteria!" He called to her through the crowd.

……

Evelyn walked around, following Asteria and then stopping as Asteria chatted.

"Asteria!" a man called.

"Oh Marcus!" she cried when he and another man appeared.

The two men where both around twenty years of age and both complete polar opposites of each other; the man named Marcus had blue eyes, blonde hair and fair skin, a mirror image of his sister Asteria.

His friend's demeanor seemed to darken the room. He was handsome, they both were. He had dark eyes and black long hair and small scruff of his jaw line. Though he was handsome, his face was contorted and a frown, almost a scowl.

"Lady Evelyn this is my brother Marcus and this is…_a friend_… Lord Mur—."

"—Morzansson." The darker man bowed his head.

"Yes," she said then turned her attention to her brother.

Murtagh would casually glance in her direction but tried not to make it obvious. She didn't recognize him, a wave of relief washed over him. He found her dark eyes to be the prettiest part of her face. She took a breath and the cloth of her chest moved a bit and his eyes fell on her scar.

From the corner of her eye she saw him look down at her. His gaze made her uncomfortable, wanting to know what he was thinking to have to look at her so intently. She was about to face him and silently ask him what his problem was but as she did he marched off. All three of them where left standing there, taken aback at his rudeness.

"What did you do?" Asteria barked.

"Nothing."

"Hmmhp, I shall see to it." Asteria said, she leaned over to her brother and whispered something, bowed and left after Morzansson.

"She is good at understanding people, my sister, it has always been her strongest trait." Marcus smiled.

"Really?" she said bristly but caught herself, "oh, I'm sorry! Please forgive me."

Marcus chuckled, "No, no I understand she can be quite, umm, standoffish at first. She gets that from our mother. Do you dance?"

She held a long conversation with Marcus and was pleased and grateful he was nothing like his sister in any respect. He asked of her home and why she left it and she explained she did want to but woke up in the middle of the desert and thus it started. He went on about famous scribes had already begun tales and poems about her.

When her ankles became sore she excused herself to the sidelines, pulling her chair, very un-lady-like, away from the crowd. Marcus had gone to find his sister.

"Milady," a heavy voice said. Evelyn turned and stood up, forgetting she removed her shoes, when she saw it was Morzansson who spoke after her.

"Hello." She smiled brightly but surprised.

"How are you enjoying yourself?" Murtagh tried to ease some emotion into his words.

"Good."

"Good." He repeated agreeably and focused his attention to the center of the room feeling silence creep up. He was never good with small talk. He never needed it before. The king ordered him to make small talk with her, he had too. Evelyn bit her lip awkwardly at the silence.

"Do you live in the castle?" she shrugged at him not sure at how this should go about.

"Yes. For the time being."

"Is that so?" intrigued by his occlude behavior.

"I have a home in Kuasta but I spend some time here."

"Oh, for the _courtly events_?" she joked.

"Yes," he barely smiled but Evelyn caught it and smiled back. "Do you like it here? At the castle?"

"I do." She answered slowly, letting the certainty sink in her voice. "Yes, I do but would really like my things back."

"Your things?"

"My things; my boots, armor, my necklace, even my mother's high school ring. I've asked for them back but I haven't gotten word back. I was told they were checking it for magic, or something. And this stupid drug won't wear off; I've barely had the chance to talk to my dragon." Evelyn caught eye of the back of Asteria's blonde head and grimaced. "And I'm stuck with _her_… I have a proposal; be my friend for the time remaining before you leave for Kuasta and make her bearable. Stay and make this place bearable." She chuckled softly.

The man at the door shouted; "Ladies and Lords. Dinner is served." Evelyn felt her stomach grumble. Marcus appeared with his sister.

"I would be greatly honored if you sat beside me." He asked and bowed.

She sat beside Marcus and an old man who fell asleep drunk before the feast even began. Across from them sat Asteria and Murtagh, Asteria insisted that he sit beside her and he was too much of a gentleman to refuse. Asteria took every opportunity to gush over him.

"That man there is "Lord Hyme, his wife is pregnant with their 14 child but he does not know it is not his…." Marcus pointed at various surrounding people.

"…Lord Colio is sneaking off at night—with his stable boy…

"…Sir Kane has been paying pirates to pillage his neighboring town."

"Toast to the beginning of spring!" A man in a red cloak cried as everyone raised their glass of wine and sipped.

"Now," he continued, "I have just heard of wonderful news and what better place to share it with you than on Réòull-Saman-Màni? Our king has chosen a successor!"

No one spoke. All attention was on the bearded man and what he had to say.

"Our lord would have delivered us the new himself, I'm sure but he is indispose. Lord Galbatorix has chosen his closest and most trusted servant. A toast to Lord Murtagh Morzansson of Kuasta! Stand up boy!"

_Lord Murtagh Morzansson of Kuasta _stood up and raised his glass high.

Evelyn's stomach dropped.

_Murtagh? _

_Morzansson? …._"A friend, Lord Mur—Morzansson."

_Of Kuasta?..._"I have a home in Kuasta"

_The man who stabbed her, who tried to kill her? _

Her vision focused on him in a demented stare. Her temples pulsed and her face was hot. Before she knew it she stood up knocking her heavy, solid wood chair to the ground with a loud crash. The room went silent around her.

"Be my friend?" she asked scornfully through gritted teeth. She bit down so forcefully on them they could have broken. She gave one last, cold, disappointed nod and marched out of the room.

_Let them come to their own conclusions. _

She refused to go to her room; she was in too much of a mood. Her guards followed at a safe distance. She wondered around for hours, often back and forth in the same hallway, muttering and slamming her first against the wall in anger. She couldn't believe herself. This only fueled and gave her more reasons to hate him.

She finally decided to go to her room and to bed. Tilda was kind enough not to ask questions. She noticed a small bag on her desk when she was getting undressed. She went through it and pulled out her watch, boots, her old clothing, her necklace and her ring.

Attached to the band of the ring was a string and to it a note. Evelyn looked at it but couldn't read the two Alagaësian words. She ripped of the note and threw it into the fire when Tilda wasn't looking.

He was mocking her.

…………….

* * *

She hates him.

I don't really know where Morzan's castle is or where Murtagh was born so I went with it.

I don't really know Murtagh personality. I'm not really sure what it is because you rarely get to see him in the books. I would really like to hear your opinions and what you think his personality is.

**Marcus Tábor** lord of Dras-Leona is really and not my character , but actually CP's. (i juts gave him two children, Asteria and Marcus jr.)

i'd really like to hear what you think the two words where!


	11. To be an Owl and a Rat

**Chapter 11: To be an Owl as well as a Rat **

I really don't know anything about fighting so I apologize in advance if something is a bit off. & this chapter was indeed hard to write and there are a few curse words in this chapter as well.

Angry people are not always wise – Jane Austen

* * *

It was a beautiful day; the sun was out and was remarkably blue. The snow had begun to melt and slowly animals were becoming more and more a general sight. Velox snapped his jaw playfully at the birds that dared to tease him.

Spring had always been Evelyn's favorite season, her second being fall. The former is the season of birth and renewal and the latter is the season of dying and regression, an odd combination of preferences. Winter she hated, it was an absolute, it was death. Spring gave hope, autumn took it away, and winter and summer were absolutes.

She moved herself from the bed and helped Tilda pull back the tall red cloth away from the pale yellow white stain glass and cracked open the window. The balcony, though she hadn't been on it, extended around five feet out from the tower. From this perspective, her room was in one of the tallest north facing towers, she could where the Ramr River met with the horizon. She was high up, not sure how high because other buildings and morning fog obscured her vision of the ground. To her left one could clearly see the steep hillsides and bases of the hills that the city was built on top of. And to her right was another tower with windows similar to her own, but past that was grassland, which will quickly become arid as spring passed.

She shot her guard a rude eye as Tilda poured hot water for her bath, she was not going to have her bath in front of him, she had way too much dignity and was much to prude for that.

She hoped into the water and pulled her head under it, she floated under it for a few seconds. She found that when she opened her eyes they didn't sting or irritate and she could see just as perfectly below water as above. She didn't mind the new changes she would go through.

With magic she shaved her legs with great efficiency and washed her mouth with a watered down solution and then went over it with simple magic. Any blemishes that woke up with her in the morning she removed by simple healing spell.

The guard reentered after she put on a solid green chemise, which looked vibrant against her damp black hair that was tied with a small piece of string. Multitasking, she ate her breakfast, shapely manage things and pulled on a thick wool tunic and leather belt around it. She put on her black boots but had to switch them before leaving when she realized she had put them on the wrong feet and perfunctorily followed him to the dragonhold.

_I can't believe I thought of him as handsome!_

_You did not know. How could you? Remember, he purposefully did not introduce himself. _Her dragon said.

_He's embarrassed us. Humiliated in front of those people. I wonder… if I had asked him where Murtagh was so I could slap him, I wonder how he would react? _

The dragonhold was on the east end of the castle, facing the desert. It was a tall building and round, opening at the top but covered with a heavy, weather strong tarp. Small openings let light in, as did the used windows, but the majority of the light came form elephantine smokeless cauldrons of fire surrounding.

When the city was still held by the elves it was used for the same purpose as it is used now. Any dragon could pass through the gate and roof at any speed or angle, such was its design. Though now the dragonhold was in much less use than when it was in its golden years.

The arena was used for epic retellings, practices and duels for the most expert of Dragon and his Rider to the amateur of the trade. Now it was used by one and seldom the other.

The walls were formed by rows of slanting seats and the arena itself was coarse brown dirt and sand and scattered equipment. High poles, bars and heavy weights.

_Hello child._ Velox nodded his head at the sight of her.

_Oh, Velox you have gotten big!_ She chuckled and hastened towards him.

_Yes I have noticed as well._ _Perhaps when you are done we can go flying_? He sat his massive green head in her tanned hands and looked up at her with pleading eyes.

Shesmiled, showing her whites, _Of course._

"Lady Evelyn," a deeper voice, not inside her head, called. Murtagh approached from behind her at an eloigned distance.

She craned her neck around to see him but remained attacked Velox, drawing strength from him. "Yes?" she acknowledged coolly.

He took a moment before speaking, "This is yours." He returned her green sword. "What is its name?"

"Earth."

"Earth," he repeated, examining.

"It's the name of my home," she said defensively and took her sword back. The weight and feel was unfamiliar. She kept herself cool and collected, almost rivaling his own stolid demeanor.

"I've offended you." He titled his head down.

"No." She lied, partially. She slowly breathed in and out from her nose, retaining a calm level. What good would lashing out do? She tightened her grip on the sheathed blade and waited tentatively for his response to her curtness.

"I apologize for last night." He surprised her but she only showed it by tilting her head back.

"And I suppose you think with that said it will be absolved and forever dismissed?" She would _not_ meekly comply.

"No."

"Then why?" She waited for him to answer but he did not, "I am here to learn magic, to fight and to fly. I do not care if you have a guilty moral; it is none of my concern. Shall we make an agreement not to bring personal matters to the rink?" She spoke without any affable reserve. Her bluntness shocked even herself, she knew she was capable of saying and doing that, but she never had the need or reason to before.

She did not wait for his reaction or witty retort. She moved back to Velox and buckled on her sword and adjusting it to her side, remembering the times she wore it in Ellesmera.

_Evelyn was that wise? _Velox shook his head, disapproving.

"I will not be spoken to as such." She lifted her head to him with defiant, unmoved eyes. "Should we also make an agreement to speak with the deserved respect and civility?"

She pursed her lips before frowning, "fine!"

"Good! You wont need your sword, you might as well take it off now."

She unbuckled the strap and set it down "why?"

"Because you have to warm up, stretch, or else you hurt yourself." He said calmly, she noticed that he did not have his sword on his person. "It is called Rimgar and is a very effective way to prepare yourself for battle and to stay in shape. It has four different levels, based on flexibility and strength and as you get stronger and more flexible then you will progress to the next level and so on. The first one," he rubbed his hands together and bent forward at the hip, placing his palms on the ground and exhaled loudly, "is called the Frog." He then squatted down, into a position similar to a frog and inhaled. "I want you to do this ten times."

He walked around her bending form, commenting on it, "Keep your legs straight and inhale through your nose and exhale through your mouth." Quickly the back of her knees began to hurt. They moved to the next step. They sat on the ground and reached her right hand to take hold of her right foot and lean in. then repeated with her left. He did lunges and shoulder-arm exercise and she followed—lazily and unwillingly.

"Now what?" she asked and brushed the dirt and dust off of her knees.

"Well, I have already seen you fight in a realistic situation and a realistic situation is what it comes down to. Offensive is not your strong point, you are not a fighter."

Evelyn scoffed at his remark and rolled her eyes. Obviously! Obviously she's not a fighter, she could have told him that herself.

"But you are fast though, quick and light on your feet. Good at dodging. However that will be no use against an opponent unless your goal is to irritate or tier him, which would be stupid. I want you to punch me."

"I'm sorry? What?"

"Hit me." He said plainly and pointed at himself. "For your hand-to-hand combat…" he then eyed her coldly, "it's not like you don't want to."

Evelyn tapped her knuckles and formed a fist and put all her weight into the punch. He tilted his shoulder back and avoided the attack altogether. With her own unbalance and his foot, she tripped forward and free fell to the ground. "What the—" she shrieked when she hit the ground and rolled over to look back up at Murtagh. She narrowed her eyes and thrust her open palm up at him. "Garjzla!"

The air heated around her arm and hand and thick, vibrant green sparks formed and zapped out at him. He easily slapped away the attack, like he expected nothing less.

"That was not funny," he held his hand to help up but continued glaring at him and helped herself up, ignoring his hand. "Emotions are a useful and powerful drive but only if you can control them. And you speak your spells too loudly and too simple, which makes your spells all too easy to block."

"Oh, does it?" She put her fist on her hip and pointed at him, "That's easy for you to say."

He ignored her comment, "When you punched me, you put too much weight in your fist and not in your feet. You need balance. _Balance is key_, balance and awareness."

"_Awareness_?"

"Yes, keep your eyes open and be constantly aware of your surroundings. For example, again when you attacked me you if you had been aware you would have seen my foot and avoided it and, to go further, you could have easily punched my knee out. Awareness is the ability to improvise and take advantage of every opportunity. Now attack me again but keep what I said in mind." She eyed him guardedly, "This is all in your best interests."

She flexed her calf and thigh muscles and bent her knees. She knew that he would try to dodge her so she aimed her fist for the center of his face and not the side. He brought his forearm to redirect her punching arm but there was no time to avoid it, instead she punched her hand other at his stomach, she felt the tick abdominal muscles flex as she hit them and he did not even flinch from her attack. But she forgot about his incoming forearm and was swiftly knocked over by it.

"Much better." His tone lightened. He would have smiled at her, as bent over and offered his hand for a second time, if his nature let him. He found an odd comfort in her—though she wanted nothing more than to actually punch him in the face. "Again."

"Again?" she whined and winced as she got up. "You've got to be bloody kidding!"

"No. We will do this over and over until you knock me down. Every day, you will come here and do the first level of Rimgar, three times, then do three laps of the ring. This will build your strength and flexibility. Then we will practice fighting starting with hand to hand and then progressing to knife and swords. With magic; I can teach you what I know but the only way to get better is to practice. Now—Again."

She let out a choleric sigh and mumbled something rude under her breath. She hated being beat and the way he spoke! So condescending at how he poked and picked her apart, humiliating her obvious, flaws in her fighting skills. She did not know how to fight—at all, she was lucky enough to be at least in shape, or else he would have, clearly, brutalized her. She felt proud every time she was able to sneak in one small jab or dodge an easy target, but every time he would verbally smack her saying she felt her left side vulnerable or she should have seen his kick come at her, it was as clear as crystal!

With the same bent legs she lunged with a heavy fist, this time aimed more at his chest. Before her knuckles even brushed his grey shirt his own hand wrapped fully around her small wrist. "Oh shit," she breathed when, with small force, he pulled her sideways. She kicked her leg out—hoping it would hit something, and it did; his shin. It did little but loosen his grip on her and she wiggled her way down and out. Murtagh was one step ahead, one leg swung low to the ground and took her feet right out from under her. She grunted in pain when she fell on her tailbone.

Murtagh dismissed her after her umpteenth time of failure. Evelyn was all too willing to leave. Tilda had a war bath already waiting for her when she arrived. For a brief moment Evelyn wondered if Tilda somehow knew that Evelyn would be aching and sore all over when she returned that evening.

She sighed at the relaxing water and with her _simple_ magic, she healed her budding bruises. Most of them were around her shoulders and upper arm.

The next day, and the rest of the few passing days, Evelyn woke up, washed her face, ate and headed straight for the rink. She bent over and did a few rounds of Rigmar, half asleep and then jogged around the perimeter; it became second nature to her. Evelyn became increasingly frustrated with herself and Murtagh, she was still unable to beat him, and he still continued to criticize her, even though it was constructive.

Evelyn began to, secretly, do any sort of exercises when she could. Before bed she did a few sit-ups and pushups and such and repeated the act when she awoke. She wasn't entirely out of shape; she was healthily and often bragged about her health, and was fairly flexible, but wasn't very strong. Her main goal was to be able to hold her own weight, be able to support herself on any limb, to be able to use her speed and agility to it's best potential. It was the only way to beat Murtagh at his own game and shut him up.

She was good because she pushed herself.

Evelyn spun around, her right arm up firmly in a ninety-degree angle blocking his. It wavered a bit but she held to it. His left side was open; she kicked her leg out at the side of ribcage. He faltered and grunted, Evelyn smirked. His left hand grabbed hold of her ankle, her smirk fell, he twisted and she lost balance and fell down. Just before she did she grabbed hold of his tunic and pulled him down with her. Murtagh fell on top of her, knocking the air out of her. "EOFF! Get off of me!" she had a sore bruise on the corner of her eye where he elbowed her.

………

It was quite clear to Murtagh, and the entire court at that, that Evelyn, or Lady Evelyn, had some sort of issue with him. But what Murtagh knew and the court did not was why; he had, to put it bluntly, stabbed her in the chest and kidnapped her then brought her to the most unpleasant place in the world. At least that's what he thought; in actuality her reasons for _dislike_ were more than that.

He figured that his infamous reputation would have reached her ears and it did; Evelyn learnt of him, of his deeds and grew to hate, fear him and came to see him as the enemy. But it wasn't just that, fed by the gossips of court and Murtagh's own actions, which did nothing to help, she prejudicially thought he _did_ do those deeds on his own free will and actually was an arrogant, rude and stark man.

He too had preconceived notions about _her_. He admitted to himself that, a brief moment knowing full well people are not all ways what they appear to be, she is a woman and most woman have never had any experience at war or swordsmanship. In fact just her appetence, her petit figure and soft features really did nothing to make her threatening or intimidating.

But to counteract that thought was that even when he tried to take her mind, he could not. Even with all his power, his unnaturally gained power, he could not. He didn't even feel her mind barriers, just… nothing. Like she didn't exist, but was impossible.

Her combat skills impressed him, at how she was quickly learning and determined to excel. But he was not trying his hardest on her—not until she was much more prepared for it.

This Evelyn was a different creature. Murtagh could not openly examine her and her mysteriousness without candidly showing any interest or causing any hullabaloo, even if only Evelyn thought of it herself, but he was interested. So unable to make an open study of her he had to quietly watched her from underneath his eyelids and from the corners of his eyes, he had to be extremely stealthy as not to arouse any suspicion or alarm.

………

Evelyn looked about herself. She began to dry her wet hands on her white apron and took a seat at the wooden table in her kitchen. Her little cottage of stone was made sturdy by her husband's strong hands. A warm feeling fluttered through her and she smiled contently to herself.

She untied and took off her apron and hung it in its usual place, behind the pantry door and unpinned her now long hair and gently shook it loose. She looked out the windows and sighed; every day she looked out upon the large rolling hills of her island home Parlim. The grass sparkled under the bright Alagaësian sun.

"Mummy!" Evelyn removed herself from the window and met her eldest son in the hallway, pointing outside.

Evelyn opened the front door and jogged outside, passed her front garden of purple Delois. Her hair and dress were quickly swept up the strong island breeze. Saphira made a firm landing 60 feet away from Evelyn's home. Eragon disembarked from Saphira's brown saddle and marched toward Evelyn, his hand on the hilt of his sword. His demeanor was wrong and Evelyn made a small cautious step backwards and turned to her son, "Go get your father," she pushed him towards the green turf roof cottage.

"Eragon?"

"Evelyn, by order of the New Council you are under arrest. I am here to escort you to the capital Urû'Ilirea**.**"

"What?" She said in outrage and shock and took a guardedly step.

"Evelyn I have warrant for your arrest."

"On what charges?" Eragon gave her a knowing but apologetic glance. "No." she barely said it. "Eragon, tell me you don't believe Tenga's proclamation." He didn't answer her "The man's a bloody fool!" her voice rose, afraid and angered.

"Evelyn," he pleaded, "the rain has stopped, the waves have stopped, there are no waves! The water is as still as ice. The even Boar's Eye has died out. The birds have left the skies and the animals have disappeared entirely. Explain this to me! Two days ago the northern half of Du Weldenvarden burnt to the ground. Evelyn the people are scared and the Council must make a decision."

"No. I know those people on the council, they would never vote in favour for this."

Tilda pulled back the red curtains and the sunlight hit Evelyn's face, she awoke with a jolt.

………

As being under the care of Galbatorix, Evelyn was given an allowance. A small one comparative to the king's own or Murtagh's, but she did not know the difference. Her obedience would be rewarded, and when her faithfulness grew so would her allowance.

Asteria was a socialite, a trait she inherited from her mother. Her mother, Lrin, was a patron of the social art and it was Asteria's dream to be like her. Every event that was ever held or to be held, Asteria would have herself invited—by any means.

A road carnival was to come to the outer towns of Urû'baen. Evelyn and Velox had been already invited, being one of the guests of honor, among them were Galbatorix and Murtagh and Thorn. And of course Asteria, by some means, got herself and her brother an invitation.

Evelyn readily accepted, reveling at the idea of a medieval festival.

She wore a long green dress with a vertical slit where her white under-tunic could be seen. Her sleeves were long and drape-y with an under sleeve close to the skin. Her front laced up with gold lace and the hem was richly embroided. Atop her head and black hair she wore a gold lace circlet. She covered herself in a heavy dark velvet cloak and hood.

The main market square was busy. She hardly felt out of place among them because she looked like them. If only her father were here to see this. History in the making. She walked along side Asteria and surrounded by guards. Evelyn frowned at the excessive amount of guards but chose not to complain—they probably felt the same way.

Evelyn passed a tall man in a jester's suite waving a ring of fire around his contorted body as the crowed sighed in admiration and awe. She giggled at the impatient clown who tried to knock over the jester.

They passed the many spectacles and spectators, but around the corners of buildings and in the alleyways were poor beggars. An old woman caught Evelyn's eye first, she was dressed in brown old rags and an old, torn shawl. Evelyn discreetly pulled out her purse and gave five coins to the lady. She didn't know how much the five coins were, though by the woman's face and thankyous Evelyn could tell it was enough.

"Your welcome," Evelyn smiled and touched the woman's hand.

Asteria and Evelyn walked around the markets. They were stopped and yelled at for bargains by everyone. Evelyn admired a beautiful brown horse. She stroked the long of face and smiled softly in his eyes. His eyes were deep expression filled brown eyes.

Evelyn felt it was about time that she got a horse. Murtagh had one as did Asteria, though she rarely, or almost never, road him. Evelyn smiled again and leaned in to the horse's face, she could feel his hot breath on her hands.

Evelyn spoke to the tall vendor about the horse, and when she felt satisfied with what he said she asked his price. After a short conversation with Asteria it came clear Evelyn did not have enough money with her. She left with Asteria after explaining she did not have enough money on her and would hopefully be back as soon as she could when she did.

Asteria and her lady took their place in the richly decorated stands, Evelyn's chair was large and sturdy with large red cushions fit for her rank, on looking the jousting ring.

A crowd of men in armor and shields entered the arena and saluted each other respectively, before forming a ring. A small boy, to the left of Evelyn on the stand, blew a gold horn and the men swung their swords at each other. It was like a human derby. The men who had fallen were quickly pulled out, out of the way. This fight went on for three more rounds and the elimination quickened to the last two men.

Evelyn's heart quickened everything a sword or an axe came too close or when a man fell. It was barbaric but still, strangely entertaining. Evelyn twisted the green and gold handkerchief in her hands.

Two men were left. Finally. Evelyn let out a soft breath when the fight finished. The men approached the stands. "These are your champions Milord!" the boy with the horn called to Murtagh. "With your consent they shall duel in a joust!"

"Yes." Murtagh rose from his seat and raised his hand. He had a blank, maybe bored face on. Evelyn just noticed he has here and spun around in her chair at his voice. "As regent of the king, you have my consent. Have you any final requests?"

"Aye Milord!" a knight in sliver armor stepped forward.

"And what is it?"

"To speak with the Lady Rider." Murtagh eyed the knight. Murtagh forced himself not to incline his head back, but with a careful eye he could see a blur of her figure in the corner of his eye. Evelyn could not see his face now that his back was to her, and then he nodded.

Murtagh returned to his chair and as he did, he snuck in a quick glace of Evelyn. He was surprised to see her looking at him. She was confused by the situation, that much was clear with her brow furrowed and her parted lips said she was also quite surprised.

"My lady of the air, I have been caught. What is your name?" The man pulled her attention back in the silver armor. She rose from her chair and met up with him at the banister.

"My name?" She lightly raised an eyebrow and placed her hands on the wooden banister.

"Indeed. Surely you must have one? Or at birth did your mother not name you for fear that any lesser name comparative to your beauty would fade it?" The man titled his armored head to her. Evelyn tried to see the face through the small eyeholes and air holes. Murtagh scoffed at the man's bold remark, yet he was angered by it. His hand clenched tightly, equally anticipating her answer as the man in silver.

"Fade it? You speak boldly." She faked seriousness.

"Would you have me fail in battle, never knowing if angles _do_ have names?"

"How can I give you my name if I cannot see you face?" a small breeze picked up and swayed her black hair and her green dress.

"You do not trust me?" He said with false hurt.

"I do not know who you are!"

"A friend! Give me your name lovely lady and I shall give you my face. Give me a token and I shall win this duel in your name."

She bent down, Murtagh's fingernails nearly drew blood from his palm, and whispered, "Evelyn, my name is Evelyn."

The knight pulled the face shield up, revealing his face.

"Marcus?!"

Evelyn spun around and Murtagh sat up in his chair at the sound of Asteria's shrill voice.

"But you knew my name all along?" Evelyn asked. Marcus smiled at her and his blue eyes beamed.

Marcus bowed low to Evelyn and strutted back to his horse, showing off his confidence to the other rider. Evelyn chuckled, still shocked at the obscenity of what just happened.

Marcus mounted his armored horse and tucked his lance firmly under his arm. At the loud sound of a trumpet the two horsemen charge at each other with their long lances held up.

Evelyn jumped when the two smacked into each other. His sister gasped beside her. Marcus was jolted but his opponent had been launch off his own horse. The man rolled around on the ground but waved his arm signaling he had not been wounded.

Marcus trotted pass the royal chairs, pass Evelyn and flashed a confident smile.

He charged once again at his opponent and won. Evelyn jumped from her seat and clapped at his victory.

Murtagh found himself watching them from afar. He wasn't entirely sure what or why she was so taken by him. He was partly disgusted by how he felt about it and partly confused. He left the immediate moment he could, Evelyn and the others gave him a shocked looks when he abruptly pushed back his chair having it almost hit the back of the banister.

Evelyn couldn't understand what his problem was, why he was always so unpleasant. If any one should be unpleasant it should really be her; she never wanted to come here in the first place but that wasn't much of her choice now was it. At least she was trying to make things pleasant and easy whereas he always wore a frown and spoke condescendingly to, not just her but to _everyone_.

Murtagh was unable to sleep that night. Why should something as natural and small as a smile bother him so? His mind was plagued with that one moment where Marcus lifted his mask and smiled to her and the way, like a contagious yawn, she smiled back.

Then it dawned on him; that was the first time he had ever seen her smile. And not the simple tug of the lips but a full smile, the one that showed the tips of her teeth and the soft hint of dimples.

But she did not smile to him. He was so profoundly effected by it yet it was not _to_ him.

In the morning Murtagh awoke from a short and unsatisfying sleep. Soon he would make his way down to the arena. Evelyn had begun arriving to the arena much earlier than needed this past week.

Evelyn had come to realize that it was really in her best interest if she got into shape and really put an effort in it to. She had been waking up early for the past week and started laps and sit ups among other things.

Evelyn's elbow swung up underneath Murtagh's jaw. He began to bleed from his tongue when he bit down on it. He punched out at her side but she fortunately dodged most of it and it only clipped her. She jumped back and kicked her leg square in his collar and then jumped forward, knocking him down with the force of her weight. Evelyn stood up slowly, stunned at what she saw.

Murtagh was on the ground.

Evelyn jumped up like a child, "Yes! Ha, I went Jackie Chan on your arse!"

Murtagh lifted himself off the ground. He was careful to ignore her child-like behavior and to give her no satisfaction. He was caught when he looked at her.

Her eyes glowed in triumph and her cheeks were flushed from the exercise, her hair had fallen out of place and began to curl around the shape of her face. Her chest heaved when she tried to regulate her breaths. "I beat you," she smiled to herself and her eyes shined brightly.

"Again," Murtagh said.

………………………….

"I thought that, with your dragon being green, you would favor an emerald." He eyed her for a reaction.

Evelyn played with the soft white pearls and the thumb size emerald. "It's beautiful."

"You like it." He sounded hopeful.

"Yes, but don't you think it is a bit much?" Evelyn tried to hand the necklace but to Marcus but refused it. She _did_ find it beautiful but she _also_ found it very gaudy.

It had begun like this, with a necklace. After he had won the tournament in her name, Marcus had given her the victor's pendent. Each day she was with him he seemed to have a gift for her. Even now she was wearing a blue dress he had bought her. Often she told him that these gifts were unnecessary but he refused to listen or take them back.

"I hear you are off to Belatona." Marcus walked behind her to fasten his new gift around her neck.

"Yes, political things and such." That was the half-truth.

The governor of Belatona, Lord Bulgin and his son have been sentenced to death for high treason; harboring fugitives and enemies of the state and freeing imprisoned enemies. He and his son were sentenced to hang until dead and his remaining living relatives must pay tribute to the king. Murtagh and Evelyn would escort the first massive payment to the capital on their return trip.

"How long will you be gone?"

_However long it takes to kill a man._ "I was told four or five days."

It had taken the four half a day to fly to Belatona. Evelyn still had not become comfortable with the idea or the actual physical feeling of flying.

Belatona was nothing like Urû'baen. Where Urû'baen was mostly the King's castle and the castle once belonging to the Elves, Belatona has and still is a human dominated place. It is also considerably smaller than the capital and had low one to two stories, wooden, sometimes reinforced with stone, houses.

Belatona was made up of many smaller villages that were united to form a larger village; the smaller villages now became neighborhoods and communities.

The manor house built of strong, heavy grey stone was the governing Lords home. The manor's strong walls were used to protect the villagers from any attack.

Belatona was also famous for it's skilled craftsmen. The finest human armor was forged here and this is where the Imperial was created. Large shipments of swords and armor can be seen leaving the village for the King's soldiers.

Evelyn walked through the main market of Belatona. Her guards, who were not her normal, regular ones, were Belatonian guards. They paid her little attention as she admired the fancy trinkets the marketers had on sale, they were clearly uninterested but it was their job to make sure that she was not jumped and attacked not to save her from a bad purchase.

Evelyn held up a blue mask an old lady and her daughter were selling. It was pretty but didn't seem to call to her, neither did the purple one that her hand hovered over next. She looked down at another; it was made of leather, like the others but was decorated with brown and white clipped feathers. It was beautiful. It fit perfectly when she tired it on, like a second skin.

After she paid for it she continued her wandering. The village was so calm and peaceful. She wondered at what the villagers must think and feel about their lord's execution. There was no one cheering for it or protesting against it.

………………………………

Evelyn caught her breath when an man with graying hair and a boy, no older than herself, both in white, were escorted out from the castle, up the steps of wooden platform and to the noose.

She looked away and did not take her seat beside Murtagh and walked away from the balcony. She could not watch someone die, especially someone innocent. Murtagh followed after her and grabbed her shoulder to turn her around.

"What's wrong?" he asked.

"I can't do this," she shook her head side to side frantically. "I can't. I'm leaving."

"You can't leave," he said flatly, holding onto her so she could not leave. "I won't allow you."

"What?" she said quickly. "You will have me sit there and watch those men be murdered? I will not kill them."

His eyebrows furrowed, "you are not killing them."

"Yes I am. I have the physical strength of ten men and the magical ability of nearly 20 spellcasters and, not to mention, a bloody dragon. My inability to save them is practically killing them."

"You must be present to the execution of those men because they guilty of high treason against the king, your King. The King will lose face as you represent him here and if you fail to conduct your duty as elegantly as you possible can the consequences shall be grave. Believe me I know this."

"He will have me punished because I refused to watch a man die?" She spoke harshly at him as he brought her back to the balcony to sit. The trumpets sounded before the execution drum. It pounded away slowly as a wool bag was place over each man's head, then the rope around their necks. Evelyn titled her watery eyes away from the center of the courtyard so she was starring at a stone wall with a guard dressed in red on it and kept her head towards the courtyard and her face emotionless.

The drums quickened making her heart beat faster, and then they stopped. Evelyn winced at the silence, knowing all to well what that meant.

When their death was confirmed she stood up and headed directly to Velox and cried as he spoke softly and soothingly to her to calm her. She stayed with him until the sun had just barely set.

Velox lifted his great scaly head quickly which jolted Evelyn, "Was that Solembum?"

Evelyn looked in the same direction as Velox. There on the manor's stone wall was a black cat with blood red eyes. Evelyn moved and followed the cat after telling Velox she would return once she found out why Solembum was here in Belatona, of all places.

The cat jumped down from the manor wall into the darkening city. Evelyn followed him through the portcullis and out the gate. She looked to her left, and then to her right, had lost him. She took slow steps forward keeping a clear eye on the surroundings. She watched for a flash of busy tail or red eyes. Her heavy dress weighed on her; she was not used to doing so much movement in such an elaborate dress.

A little boy with shaggy black hair and a blue tunic approached her. Strangely the boy was oddly familiar. "Evelyn," the boy said and his eyes flashed red for a split second.

"Solembum?" She starred down at the werecat turned boy." What are you doing here? Is Angela here?"

"Yes, in the _Sword's Anvil_." He said and turned away, expecting her to follow him.

"The _Sword's Anvil_?" She asked, confused, not knowing it was the name of a nearby Belatonian tavern. The boy gave her a look of annoyance and pointed in the general direction of the tavern and made her follow him.

She followed him through the dust streets to the tall wood and stone and hay and straw-roofed tavern. It was clouded with smoke inside form the many hard smokers and immediately when Evelyn entered she hacked up a loud storm of coughs and earned herself a few unpleasant, intended-to-be-intimidating stares.

Solembum led her to one of the tables on the far side. Angela sat quite comfortably and undisturbed, twirling her empty tea mug around her finger on the wood table. Evelyn sat down in front of her, here eyes watery and red from the tough air. The air and the dim light gave enough protection to her identity.

"Angela," Evelyn wheezed.

"Ah, Evelyn, what a pleasant surprise. What brings you to Belatona?" The witch asked easily as she continued to make her mug dance.

"I had to oversee Lord Bulgin's execution." Evelyn tried to level her voice and sound unmoved. Angela nodded her head in acknowledgement. "Tell me news of the Varden? I hate not knowing, not being apart of the resistance. We should be with you guys, fighting alongside Eragon and Saphira not Murtagh and Thorn."

"I understand." She lowed her voice hinting at Evelyn to do the same before they are overheard. "But you can help."

"How?" Evelyn leaned in, anxious.

"What do you know of Galbatorix? Any inside information; what are his next moves or how has Thorn become so impossibly large and strong in such a short time? Tell me what you know."

Evelyn frowned and shook her head; she did not know what Galbatorix's next move was or how Murtagh and Thorn have become so powerful.

"You do not know," Angela said quietly and looked down, disappointed.

"No, I'm sorry I could not be more of a help to you." Evelyn leaned back on her chair. Her face was contorted in her own disappointment. Why doesn't she know anything? Evelyn wondered then if she had been purposefully left in the dark for this very reason. Did Galbatorix really not trust her? She never really gave him any incentive to, she didn't blame him, and she _would_ tell Angela everything she knew if she knew something.

But she did know something. It was small. It would actually stop the war but it would diffidently be a thorn in Galbatorix's side. It would humiliate him too, him and Murtagh. This might even, in fact, strengthen the resistance. It would, if done successfully it would prove that they are not undefeatable.

"Wait, yes I can." Angela raised her head; she was both hopeful and curious. Evelyn leaned in, careful not to be heard. "All of Lord Bulgin's family gold and majority of the city's treasury is being sent to the capitol. I know where it is being kept. Murtagh's men are most likely packing it now, on to the wagon. If I can get it out of the courtyard you can get it out of the city, right?"

"I see what you mean. Won't it be dangerous?"

"Yes, but I don't think they are expecting it. It's perfect; I'll take out the guards and raise the portcullis and charge the horse and wagon out of the courtyard. You jump on the wagon as it passes and I jump off. You get away safely and I don't get caught and I can sneak back into the manor. I want to help, think of what that amount of gold can do for the Varden?"

……

Evelyn lay in her bed. She was nervous; her heart was beating a thousand beats a second. She waited in her room, in her bed as the world outside her bedroom died down. She did not get any calmer. She didn't want to think of the consequences if she got caught only the importance and benefits of it.

She was uncomfortable and hot from wearing her thick black tunic and jerkin along with her tight, flexible pants. Evelyn looked to her left, at the wooden desk; on it were her dark lightweight cloak and her mask. Her mask would protect her.

Evelyn raised herself up in her bed and looked out the stone framed window. The patrolling guards had become less restless and were actually becoming sloppy. One man was leaning on his lance while others made short rounds when they should be talking long and watchful ones.

The moon had passed its high point in the sky and somewhere down in some alley was Angela and a ready party of Varenders. She looked farther out her window and then looked down. Her room was on the third level and one level down was the roof of another room, she could easily jump to it without injuring herself. And beside that room was the manor wall, on which was a patrolling guard. He would be the first one she would have to knock out. And the next, she trailed her eyes along the wall, was the man standing on one side of the portcullis.

In the darkness of her room, she silently put on a pair of soft, flexible leather shoes and laced them up, tucking in the hem of her pants. This put on her cloak and tied a lose scarf around the lower half of her face. Finally she took her new owl feather mask and placed it perfectly on her face and tied in tightly around her head. She smiled to her self and pulled up the hood of her cloak.

She did not bring her Rider sword as it would be way too recognizable, so she would have to rely on her hand to hand and magic skills. Besides she was not entirely accomplished at using her sword yet.

She locked her bedroom door and moved to the window and took a deep breath. She lowered herself out of the window and onto the roof. Her stomach flew as she fell through the air. She landed with a soft thud on the hay covered roof. Evelyn had already previously cast a spell to soften any noise she me makes.

She paused for a moment, keeping low the side out of view and breathed deeply and slowly. Evelyn crawled to the other side and on to the manor stone wall.

"_Rejfet du __garjzla__un mierorr du farith __hringr__ eka eom __gøra__ eka inviziblr." _She whispered, making herself appear invisible by reflecting the sounding light.

"_S__ytha__un __tyna __onr__manin__." _She jumped and caught the man before he fell to the ground and makes a noise. She had put him in a deep sleep and when he awoke, would forget what ever happened. She let out a deep breath, one down…

She moved to the portcullis and did the same to that man. From this position she could see and count how many guards surrounded the wagon; seven of them, nine including the other two men on the other side of the gate.

She repeated her spells quickly on the other two men.

Nervous and exhausted she hid safely in the shadows and removed her invisibility spell.

_Velox_, she thought to him, _I need you now. _

Evelyn took in a large breath, "_Skulblakas ven.__"_ Her dark eyes suddenly became green. Like the colours of Velox's rich emerald scales so became the dark shades of the shadows.

_Do you see the gate?_ She asked and titled her head carefully out of the shadows, toward the portcullis. _I need you to raise it when I am dealing with these…men. _

_Yes, I can handle that. _

Evelyn quickly and silently moved down the stairs and composed herself before advancing on the courtyard to look her most threatening. She raised her arms and spread her fingers in preparation for a spell and left her hiding place.

A dark figure in black materialized from the even blacker shadows. The guard who noticed him first shouted, but the figure did not stop coming closer. The guards backed slightly, unsure. When he got closer the guards saw that his face was completely covered in a mask.

"Oi! Stop there!"

Evelyn lowered her voice and gave it a heavy, unrecognizable rasp to it. "_Remove yourselves from the wagon and allow us to leave_."

"No!" the men pulled out their swords.

"_That gold does not belong to the king. Leave or else I will end your lives." _Velox lifted the gate as she said that, and she took a firm and forceful step at the wagon but the men advanced on her their swords. The horses attached to the wagon jostled uneasily.

"_Efla __du __silfr heitr.__"_ And the men's swords heated in their hands. The guards dropped their swords to the ground with a clang and clutched onto their burnt hands and yelling in pain.

The heavy metal gate was up as far as Evelyn needed it to get through. Evelyn made a large sweeping motion with her arms and cried out _"__Thrysta vindr,"_ making a thunderous force of wind knocking them over. She jumped over to the horse and smacked its thigh to scare it.

Evelyn's heart pumped in more adrenaline from fear and urged the horse to speed up. The buggy raced through the narrow streets of Belatona. Angela unexpectedly jumped onto the wagon along with two others; Evelyn did not clearly see their faces. Evelyn moved to back and shot fire and other violent obstacles in their pursuers' path.

Evelyn leaped from the wagon but did not do so unseen. One of the pursuing guards followed her into one of the alleyways. Removing her disguise she cast away her cloak and put her mask in her pants and returned to the gate of the manor wall and pretended as if she had been there all along.

"Lady Evelyn," Evelyn turned towards the call of her name, it was Murtagh. He stalked towards her with a nearly blank face but she could tell by the way he walked he was worse than upset. "When did you get here?"

"Just a moment ago. What has happened?" She asked with just the right amount of confusion without having overdone it and blown her cover.

"We have been robbed. Some petty thief gang has stolen the king's gold. The king will not be happy." His voice was even and was nearly impossible to decode, as usual.

"Sir," a man in guard uniform addressed Murtagh, "we have the guards who encountered the thief waiting for you and this," the man held up her discarded cloak. She began to sweat. How did they find it? She threw it amongst old barrels in the alley. "The men believe it is his."

_His_. Evelyn silently sighed to herself; they think that she is a he. Perfect. This could not have gone any more perfect than it is for her now.

"What did he look like?"

"He wore a mask over his face. The mask was shaped like an owl with feathers and all. He had a large cape with a hood and moved real fast. Real bloody fast. He even knew magic."

Murtagh hand squeezed tightly on the ratty cloak fabric to the point where his knuckles turned white, this frightened Evelyn more.

"Find him."

* * *

Phew now that that's done…

So Evelyn has become a rat, Marcus is over affectionate and Murtagh is feeling a wee bit jealous…

Any questions? Opinions?

How do you feel about Evelyn's choice to be a snitch and do you think she is going to be caught?

Or Murtagh's slight jealousy, is it believable?

And plot wise, that dream? Any ideas on that ?

* * *

**********Also I have started a new story: **Sins of Our Fathers**. It is about Galbatorix's life, childhood and all. You should really check it out. Ive got the whole plot planned out for it.

here is a little family tree...:)

FAMILY TREE

*****People in **BOLD** are of the royal family and carry royal 'Palancarnian Blood'. They are ancestors of the first human King*

**King Palancar**—Lady Palancar

V

**King Angrenost**—Lady Angrenost

V (many generations later)

V

**Nola**— Miach.........Keitha—Unknown Shade....... Hienah—Lenu

(3 children)............ (one child)............................. (one child)

**Bearch...................** Galbiss.................................... Aislinn

(no children)

**Davina**—Peter

(no children)

**Andrea**—Sedoc

(Andrea and Sedoc

have 2 children)

**Gabelie **

**Deirdre**—Moran

V

V (around 7 generations later)

V

**Garrow**—Marian= **Roran**—Katrina= **Nola**

**Selena**—Morzan =**Murtagh**—Evelyn = **Thomas** & **Victor**

**Selena**—Brom = **Eragon**—Ayra = **Sophia**


	12. To Be True and Confused In Yourself

Chapter 12: To Be True and Confused In Yourself

Evelyn's eyes widened at the sight of the beautiful brown horse, though she didn't go near it like she once had before. He snickered and neighed casually whilst she stood there partially frozen; she had only ever seen him in the market and had on occasion imagined riding him in a green hilly field and once by a cool blue river, she had never, not once, imagined seeing him here, in this dark dismal arena.

"You didn't have to," her lips a little dry from not speaking for a duration.

"Yes, but you were in need of a horse, transportation. You certainly cannot ride Velox everywhere. Tilda said you had a particular admiration for this one."

Evelyn eyed him charily but not too obvious. Tilda was not with her when she saw the horse in the market nor did she tell Tilda of the horse. Asteria was with her but Evelyn highly doubted that she paid _any_ attention to what Evelyn did that day and she doubted even more so that Asteria hurried to Murtagh to gossip about her. It was unlikely to her that either of them had any interest in her day-to-day activities.

So how did he know about her particular interest and liking of _this_ horse? She was taken aback a bit by his lying and the ease in which he did it, and wanted to point it bluntly out to him that she never once mentioned it to Tilda, but was unsure of where that might put her and ignored that pulling feeling at that back of her head that he was there, not to far off, when she was admiring the horse.

She did not need any confirmation that he might have been spying on her, especially when her alter ego has been flying through the dungeon and jail, freeing Varden allies or those who were unjustifiably trialed or not trialed at all.

She was unnerved by that and by how easily he could lie to her.

"You really didn't have to. He was a fortune, I could have paid for him myself, I am quite capable." She worried for a moment if _he_ knew _she_ was lying.

"It was a gift… if I offended you..." His voice deepened and Evelyn felt an immediate fear.

"No. No you haven't." She saved the situation, "I am just not used to receiving gifts." That was another lie. Then she immediately hoped he did not bring up Marcus and his many gifts-givings.

He nodded briefly and neither of them spoke. Evelyn, with a forcibly steady hand, brushed the coarse black mane.

"What will you call him?" he asked her. His attempt to clear the air of his affronted tone was welcomed but still looked upon. Evelyn might have tried if she thought it proper. She wasn't the one who needed to say sorry.

She pursed her lips as she thought of a name. She was clever when it came to name calling but hardly satisfied, it took her hours to come up with Velox's name and still she was unsure if she likes it, though Velox seems to like it and that was what really mattered. Evelyn named her cat; Mr. Meow and her goldfish Goldie. Her mind now was reeling through famous horse names. "Bucephalus" she said.

"_Bucephalus_?" he said strangely, "Is that a word from your world?" his voice was so much softer now compared to his previous slightly exasperated tones but still stiff.

"Yes," she did not meet his eyes and instead continued to brain the tall horse's mane. "It is Greek, one of the many languages in my world. Bucephalus was the famous horse of a very famous conqueror that united an entire Empire. That was long time ago though, 2313 years from current day in my world."

"You are very interested in him."

She turned her head around so quickly she nearly got whiplash. "No, I am interested in history overall. So is my father." The last part she had no intention of saying but came out any way. "If you don't mind I would like to go for a ride."

Evelyn got Bucephalus into a sturdy trot and led him outside of the arena, into a small lush green field where Velox was continently resting. The horse had a beautiful stride and pace and Evelyn easily fell into posting.

_So this is my replacement? _

_Hardy, if you think a horse could replace a dragon then you've clearly lost it._ Evelyn smiled to her green dragon.

Velox chuckled softly but then his scaly face fell into all seriousness. _Evelyn, why did you refuse him so bluntly? You know it's unwise. _

_Yes, but Velox he knew I wanted Bucephalus, somehow he knew. I hate to admit it but I think he was following me down in the market, that or Asteria is a spy._

_You don't really think? _

_Yes, it's both logical and reasonable and you know it. _Velox tilted his large head in understanding agreement.

_If he _is_ following you, you know he might discover you are that thief he has a bounty out for._

_You think I don't know that? It's my biggest fear! Can you imagine what could, what will happen if he does? What if he already knows?_ Her voice was panic stricken but Velox tried to remain calm.

_I do not think he knows. _He said.

_Why is that?_

_If he did I think he would have already turned us in. _

_What if he is waiting to catch us in the act or waiting for a bigger crime?_

_Then quit being this thief. _Velox asserted his opinion quite loudly.

_I can't, _she looked up at him from her perch on Bucephalus. _I can't because we have to continue to prove our alliance to the Varden. If we stop doing these acts the Varden might think we've turned our backs on them and decided to join Galbatorix. And I made a promise to Angela; we owe it to Angela for the help she gave us in the beginning. We can't do one mission and then chicken out on her, on them._

_You are too strong willed. _He shook his head_, if you must, but we will use the utmost precautions. _

…

He gently exhaled from his nose then lifted his right hand to the wooden door. It was quite late, the sun had set a long while ago, he himself just received the news and wasn't sure if Evelyn were still awake.

"A moment!" an elder voice called to him after he gave three knocks on the door. The voice was distinctively Tilda's, a voice he was all too familiar with from his younger years.

"Ah, milord." The nurse maid opened the door.

"Is Lady Evelyn awake? I have reason to speak with her."

"Who is it?" a younger, softer voice called in from inside the room.

"It is Lord Morzansson, milady." Tilda replied. Murtagh leaned slightly to his left to get a wider view of the room while his old nurse maid had her back to him. From his place he could not see Evelyn but if her room was anything like his own it sounded as if she were sited on the couch in the center right of the room. "Should I invite him in milady?"

There was a long pause before Evelyn answered. Whether or not Murtagh was invited into the room, he still needed to speak to his fellow dragon rider about pressing matters and with or without her consent he would speak with her. Still, by some strange cause, he wanted the permission to enter her room. To be willingly wanted to be spoken with and have the same keen interest shared.

There was a strange pull at his chest when she finally answered, "Yes let him in." Murtagh walked in and his eyes gazed across the room in a sweep until they landed on Evelyn. She _was_ in fact sitting on the couch with a small clay cup in her hands and a dark blue shawl hung around her shoulders and was tightly held completely over her body.

"What can I do you for?" Ah, her language was different; at times he could never be completely sure as to what she was saying.

"We are leaving tomorrow for Bullridge and then to Teirm. We are to over see the signing of these bargains; Teirm's navy needs new and more accommodations."

"_These_ _bargains_?" her eyes squinted for a moment; her face told him she thought this was ridiculous. He nodded. "Alright then, I'll be ready."

He took that as his cue to leave. He bowed politely and exited by the same door. Evelyn breathed a sign of relief when she confirmed he had left. "Tilda I'm going to go and change."

"Do you need help?" Evelyn shook her head in response.

She moved to the other smaller room and quickly closed and locked the door. She let out yet another sigh of relief. She dropped the feather mask she held tightly onto from underneath her blanket. He had come so close, so close to discovering her. She had just gotten in when he called upon her and she just barely managed to grab a blanket. Close call.

She dropped the blanket and took off her dark ensemble and hid it, along with the mask, in the large wooden trunk and changed into a white sleeping shift that laid on top of the wooden trunk. She reentered her bedroom while brushing her hair.

…

It had taken them hardly anytime to reach Bullridge. It was an unattractive village with a small strong hold that could keep the entire village safe in time of need, however most of the villagers left because the fear of Elvish army to the north in Gil'ead.

"We'll meet with the leaders of the Eastern Desert Tribes; they have often fought with the Wandering Tribes and are considering joining the imperial cause only because their enemies have joined the Varden and when we are victorious a considerable part of the desert will belong to them, which will end the dispute over it with the Wandering Tribes. They would be a great advantage for the Empire in the war."

There was a horribly low grumble to the east and the sky was getting darker and darker over the eastern center of the desert, the sky would light up in white from far off flashes of lighting.

The dragon riding pair flew over the city and headed east for the desert. There was a relatively small camp of brown and black tents on the horizon and quickly grew as they neared it, and once hovering atop the camp they landed. On the outer ring of the camp were large numbers of camels being fed and water by tan skinned men, most of them not wear shirts in this blazing sun.

Around the camp was one, maybe two, small farms that were now dead. Dead of life that is, actually Evelyn had no idea if they were farms or just long abandoned house. Small little wooden house had been over run by sand, they're roofs had caved in, long, sun dried planks jutted out of the yellow like a shipwreck washed to shore.

Evelyn placed a flat hand over her eyes to see. Few men walked the mild distance from the camp to the two riders. Murtagh muttered a few quick words to the heavy lidded men and made a few hand gestures, Evelyn stood close by Velox. These men wore long curved swords at their waists and small daggers at the ankle of their baggy black linen pants.

Murtagh made a gesture to Evelyn and Velox to follow him. The black and brown tents were large and spaced out enough to let pass Thorn and Velox. The four followed the guards to one of the larger tents. It had a heavy roof but light, see through drapes as walls to let whatever wind may come pass through.

The tent was filled with low ankle high tables and large elaborate pillows, cushions, mats and chaise longues. The air was grossly thick with a fragrant smell, Evelyn glanced up and assuredly there were sticks of incense alit laying in small dishes hanging from the tent roof.

A tanned skin man stood at the center of the tent, with his arms folded behind his back regally. He was dressed in all black but the fabric was light in weight, something Evelyn noticed with most of the camps linens; a long embroiled tunic that came to his lower thigh and did not wear a belt and black loose pants and brown leather sandals. On his head he wore a scarf that wrapped around his head and drooped down around his neck and over his shoulder.

He motioned to his guests to sit before him. He was an old man, either it was his age that showed or the harshness of his living that made him appear old. He had a thick short bearded mustache and heavy dark eyes under eyebrows. His face was long with high cheek bones and bore many deep wrinkles around his lips and forehead, especially his brow.

"You were not where we planned to meet, Imad" Murtagh began the moment he took seat, he sounded slightly frustrated.

"We agreed on the edge of the desert, where sand meets grass, at Bullridge. So I am here."

"The agreed meeting place is not for another two and a half miles further east." Murtagh pointed out with forced.

The man, Imad, nodded his head slowly. "The desert sands have been moving."

"_Moving_? How long has it taken for these sands to move two and a half miles?" Evelyn leaned in, completely baffled.

"Less than three months," Imad said factually in his deep heavy acent.

"How is that possible? In only three months? You must have had hundreds of sand storms come through here."

"No, no sand storms. A few of my men have seen it; they say the green grass and brown dirt melts into gold sand before their eyes." The man's eyes widened as he spoke, his men around him clearly did not like this information being retold in their presence. "The desert may be getting bigger but it is much less friendly than before. It has never been this hard to cross before. We have been forced to guard ourselves on its borders."

"Would the storms be cause of this?" Murtagh asked, pinching his chin between his thumb and finger.

"The storms make it harder to cross…I do not know. The world is a changing place."

"Your whole world will be engulfed in sand if this rate keeps up!" Evelyn's voice raise in disbelief.

"Yes that is true…" he smiled oddly, if the whole world became a desert it would have no harsh effect on him and his tribe, in fact it would be more like home.

"There are strange thing happening," Murtagh's brow pinched, "I have heard reports that the Boar's Eye has considerably slowed down."

Boar's Eye.

Somewhere that name or thing was awfully familiar to Evelyn, "What's the Boar's Eye?"

"It's a massive whirlpool cause by the tidal pull between two islands, near impossible to cross."

"And its slowing down? Why is that?"

Imad raised his eyebrows as a sign of lack of knowledge and face Murtagh across from him. Murtagh also did not have a reason why and so remain quite.

"Hmmm. Well Boar's Eye sounds awfully familiar, did you mention it in studies?" she asked Murtagh but he remained quite. Evelyn didn't know what to make of his behavior but this wasn't something new. He always had the strangest behaviors still his abrupt coldness was simply rude, even Imad was aware.

"The sun has set and the moon will soon take its height." Imad stood up from his low embroider pillow and Murtagh the Evelyn followed. "Show you to your tent?" he held his arm outstretched in the general direction.

It was a marginal tent but comforting. There was an open space for Velox and Thorn head's to rest. The tent was split in half with a carpet like drape, one half for her and the other for Murtagh. It was unnerving to have to share a tent with him. Their rooms in the castle were a good floor apart; this was too close, too sudden.

Imad pointed to the wide beds, stating they were two of the most comfortable beddings with animal pelts and furs for its comfort. The beds were really a thick mattress atop a wooden plank, low on the ground cover with lush, large pillows, similar to the ones in Imad's own tent.

Just like Imad's tent, incense hung from the tent supports and candles were used for light. There was a hanging wall carpet; Evelyn was particularly taken by its beauty. There was a woman on it with long hair holding a flower that looked much like a lily or something similar. Around her were little balls or orbs of different colors and long script.

"It says; the price of life is grave, the atonement is yours."

"It's beautiful."

"I am retiring." Murtagh interrupted, moved away from them and carried his small pack to the closed half of the tent. "We shall draw up plans in the morning"

It was rudely clear to both Evelyn and Imad that their conversation was no longer accepted and both should follow Murtagh's lead and retire.

"That was a bit stark." she muttered just loud enough for herself to hear after Imad left. Velox grunted in agreement. Evelyn set her small satchel like bag on the table that also held a water basin and fruit.

Evelyn chucked her larger leather bag carrying her clothes and necessities beside her low bed and pulled off her boots with a long sigh. There was a small basin of water beside a wealthy sized plate of fruit, she splashed her face with water and tied her hair back.

"Put your dagger under your pillow." She caught her breath and jolted slightly from the voice behind her. She turned around to Murtagh.

"Do you really think that is necessary?" She crossed her arms over her chest. "These people need this arrangement as much as you do. I don't think killing anyone, even if it's _me_ would do much for their cause."

"Yes I do."

She remained there, finding him to be ridiculous.

"You _will_ arm yourself."

"_Fine_." She came to, knowing full well how childish she sounded. She pulled her hand sized knife out of her satchel and tossed it onto her pillow. "You'll be able to sleep peacefully now," she aimed sarcastically. "Besides, I'm more likely to cut myself on it than on an attacker."

He stayed there for a moment. "Are there any other precautionary things I can do for you? I'd like to catch up on my sleep."

She crawled into her bed after he left. The heat was impossible to sleep in. Instead of being under her covers she laid on top of them. The sand and the heat reminded her of her father's camp. Deserts reminded her of her father.

A blunt pang filled her—the missing of her father, of her family.

She smiled to herself bother bitterly and amazedly. She found herself taking her separation quite well. In fact amazingly well. She had all the hope and assuredness she would return to them all soon, when this ordeal was over and she would no longer have to deal with Murtagh and worry for her life and sanity.

The only ties she had to this place was Velox but something felt right about her leaving, that Velox would come with her. Velox felt it too, deep inside. He would always be with her, he was apart of her.

She would be home, where she wanted to be, with everyone she loved at the end of this. That was for sure, she told herself.

She woke with a small start; her hand brushed the cold metal of the sheath under her pillow.

She munched on a hearty meal of fruit and bread but avoided the meat; throwing it to Velox, as if he didn't have enough to begin with.

She exited her tent with a fresh start. Imad and Murtagh drew up plans for their two army's agreements. Evelyn, who was unfamiliar with these sorts of political things sat and observed with the highest intent. This was apart of her teachings.

Murtagh being ambidextrous at nearly every skill watched Evelyn closely as he appeared entirely focused on the agreement. Her dark eyes darted back and forth, from the persons to the paper utmost intensity. She stated her opinion few times; some Murtagh agreed with, some he did not, though he was impressed with what she said.

At last the final daft of the agreement was finished and signed by both parties. Evelyn, who had taken a likening to Imad and some members of his party, lagged their departure. And for obvious reasons this frustrated Murtagh. His frustration noticeability was at its peak when the four had to land somewhere between Bullridge and Teirm, closer to the Spine, because they need rest.

"You continued to speak with them for nearly three hours."

"If you had mentioned that we had to leave at a certain time then we would have left. You weren't so worried about being so rude the night before." She no longer wanted to argue and set out to gather kindle for fire.

She returned and started a fire with magic then pulled out a thick sleeping bag made of pelt and placed it at a desirable distance from the fire.

"The hours will be dived into shifts; Evelyn you will go first then Velox, I then Thorn."

Evelyn readied herself with _Earth_ right by her side incase it needed to be used. The first hour was nerve wracking; the fear that someone should attack them but soon the fear wore off and she got used to the sounds of the night and she came dangerously close to falling asleep but forced herself to remain awake; Murtagh would kill her if she fell asleep.

She busied herself thinking about the implications of the agreement she signed just this morning and how it would affect the Varden and how she would get this information to the Varden. She did not see the entirety of Imad's army but surely it must be vast or strong if Galbatorix went out of his way to draft up an agreement treaty. And what of Teirm's navy too?

Her time was up and she switched with Velox. Evelyn had already begun falling asleep during her shift and quickly got to it.

Soon as the night passed Velox's shift was over, and then passed Murtagh's and it was coming to the end of Thorn's and to the morning.

There was a welcomed warmth on Murtagh's face, across his jaw and cheek, he leaned in but quickly the warmth left him. He opened his eyes as the chilled morning air touched the once cover part of his face, only to see little fingers pulling away. Evelyn sighed in her sleep and rolled over taking her warm fingers with her.

Murtagh pushed the thoughts from his mind and woke up, scolded Thorn for allowing what happened happen to which he replied; it was none of his business, his business was stand guard and if he had woken Murtagh up, Murtagh would be a far fouler mood than usual. Velox and Evelyn were both then woken up.

Again the pairs continued to fly to Teirm, which was just over the lowest rang of mountains on the Spine.

During Galbatorix's upheaval, Teirm became the Empires primary port city. The city itself had an impressive navy. Around Teirm was a tall white wall of a hundred feet and thirty feet thick, in this wall were two main and massive gates; one on the west side to the sea and one on the south side to the main road. In the north of the city was a citadel that housed a lighthouse which towered over the city's buildings. The city was also laid out in a strange way; the city's buildings grew progressively taller from the outside in; the tallest buildings were near the citadel. This protected it from pirate attacks but also made it incredibly easy for thieves and such to run and jump along the rooftops.

"Lord Morzansson, Dragon Thorn, Lady Evelyn and Dragon Velox." A tall man in formal armor bowed to the four. "I am the head of state; Lord Risthart."

Evelyn could only partially assume from vague indications that Murtagh just wanted to carry on and draw up navel plans but formality was formality and had to be carried out. Unlike Imad's band of warriors Teirm was filled with nobles and ranking officers to the brim.

Evelyn bowed to yet another lord and lady. The citadel, which they were given formal tour of, was beautiful. They cover all floors and levels of it from the look out point of the lighthouse which overlooked Teirm's massive and well laid out harbor to the cold and dark prison and cell holdings. Evelyn was amazed and alarmed to see size of the navy and the amount of construction they were doing to complete hundreds upon hundreds more.

They walked through a long hallway that held portraits of noble families. Evelyn lagged behind to look at them; convincing the others she knew her way back and wouldn't be long. Murtagh frowned in displeasure at this for unknown reasons but did not voice his objection.

She looked at each portrait with natural curiosity, like she would if she were in an art gallery. Each of these people once lived and they all sat before an artist and took the time to have their face permanently frozen in paint. Under each painting was a plack that had a name and date scribed into it.

She rounded a corner to continue her on looking but froze still in her place.

There in front of her was a boy her age or a little older dressed in darker, shabbier clothes. He was most defiantly not a noble or a servant.

Stretched out at her was an arrow ready to be fired, and in such a close range she would surely be killed. The blood drained from her face and she swallowed a loud lump. The boy's hand was shaky on the string, his brow was down and his lips were upturned; he was afraid.

"You're the Dragon Rider." The boy's voice shook.

_Evelyn_! Velox sounded in her head.

"Who are you?" her lips and mouth were dry, making speaking near impossible.

"Jakob." He spoke quickly. "Look I'm a good shot, it will be quick, I promise, you won't feel a thing."

_Evelyn leave! Where are you? I'__m coming after you!_

"Why are you doing this?"

"Varden's orders."

"The Varden?" she barely let out. "That's impossible. They know…" she nearly let her identity go. Evelyn took in a large breath before continuing and put more force into this. "I can stop that arrow before it even hits me."

He didn't lower his bow.

"Don't do this. Think of all the things and all the people you are giving up over this stupid risk. Think of your family."

"My family is practically dead." His face shook with fear and anger.

"How?"

"What would an Imperialist like you care for?"

"I am _not_ an Imperialist." She spoke softly even though he rose his voice.

"They are all sick from being used as slave labors to build Teirm's _great_ navel fleet."

Evelyn lowered her head in understanding and sadness. This boy who, like his family and many others, has been starved and worked nearly to death built up enough courage for this risky and idiotic plan. Armed with only a bow and arrow Evelyn hated to think what would happen if he ran into Murtagh first.

Evelyn raised her head when she heard him lower his bow. "Go. I will speak with Lord Risthart over this matter. I will make an order of it. I understand your pain, I was once though that." That was a lie but if it got him to leave then so be it. "Go and if you are stopped say that I sent for you and have a safe return."

….

Evelyn straightened herself out from a landing crouch. She corrected the pack on her back and pulled her hood further down over her forehead and eyes. Her face was nearly all hidden; the mask covered her eyes and her hooded cloak came up high enough to cover her chin and mouth.

Inside her pack were several animal skins of water and basic medicine, medicine she had been taught by Murtagh on how and when to use. She moved away from the citadel and to the coastal housing, paying close attention to the dark alley-ways.

All way well and all went well. She eventually found the workers holdings. Inside were many, many ill, which saddened her naturally. She swiftly placed the water skins, medicine and food in various spots around the housings. Evelyn avoided being seen, commotion was something she especially did not want, it could get her caught.

She hoped when she snuck out it would be enough.

Evelyn's back was lighter without the heavy pack on it, allowing her to move more freely. She still stayed close to shadows and alleys between the tall buildings, avoiding fire torches and moonlight.

There was a faint _whosh_ over her head. Evelyn looked up, the sound flew over the roof above her but all she saw were little white stars and the moon.

_What the—_

_Evelyn come back now, leave it be. _Velox called for her but she ignored him.

She heard it again but this time saw it too but had no idea what it was. A little flash of light flew through the air, over the rooftops, some 20 – thirty feet above, heading in the direction she just came from. Again but this time more, Evelyn caught glimpses of them through the cracks between buildings and roofs.

They were arrows, arrows lit on fire.

A hard knock went to his door and the guard pushed it open, no time for formalities this was an emergency. "Milord." The guard called with urgency with him up but Murtagh was already up and dressed and was latching his belt to his waist and heading for the door.

"I know."

Evelyn climbed up the side of a tall building to its roof. It was strange that the arrows were coming form inland instead from the sea. Perhaps they were under attack and the fire lit arrows were defensive but she did not see any or hear any such attack.

Vast volleys of fire arrows lit the sky above with flashes of red as she continued to climb the side. The bright moon faintly lit up nearby objects. Evelyn moved slowly as to not to draw attention to herself.

Finally reaching the top she looked in the direction the arrows headed. She was shocked. Outlined figures of burning ships glowed in red and yellow, smoke rose from the harbor.

"They are burning the fleet." She whispered in amazement and shock. She spun around towards the archers to see them. From what she could tell they too were seated on higher rooftops but no arrow came from the same spot twice.

_Velox, it's fantastic. Do you see it?_

_Yes. This is a great blow to the Empire. Do you think they are Varden? _

_I don't know and I don't think I can get close enough to ask before they try to kill me._

_You best leave. No doubt guards will be sent out. _

She leapt from one roof to the next. Yells and screams came from harbor, small figures could be seen dousing the flames with water and few were using magic.

"They are on the roof top, sir." A guard explained the situation to Murtagh.

"Scatter your men. I want them found, search everywhere. Find them and bring them to me. Go!" he ordered.

Evelyn continued her roof hopping, wishing the citadel wasn't so far, though she could clearly see all its details now. The fiery ships glowed like a setting sun on the horizon. Getting to the citadel was becoming considerably harder as the guards were passing in growing numbers. Each time a searching troop passed she froze still, hiding behind any structure on that roof.

Evelyn pressed her back tightly to a chimney for cover. She tilted her head just over the edge enough to see a small band of guards carry out given orders, following down each alleyway. She grew increasingly anxious when she soon spotted some scouring the very rooftops she was hopping.

A force blew her from her seat and she cried out. Unable to stick into the stone chimney was an arrow lying right in front of her. She looked up to the direction from where the arrow came; a guard with an arrow.

"Ah!" she dove sideways before he could shoot her again and landed on her side._** "**_Thrysta vindr." A gust of air knocked the man over, allowing Evelyn the time to get up and regain herself.

She jumped from the roof to the ground forming a large ball of air between herself and the solid ground to soften the fall. Despite her expert landing she still let out a yelp of fear.

Just when she picked herself up off the ground another figure pass the alleyway she jumped into.

"Oh no." she let out at the sight of Murtagh. She threw her hand up and yelled; **"**Hlíf lóga eimi!"

Murtagh hurried to the alleyway and looked in. He was lightened at the sight; it was that thief with the owl mask. He took notice of Murtagh and defensively used magic to cover himself in smoke and fog.

"Hrekja eimi" Murtagh said easily with a wave of his hand. It was done just in time to catch the thief turn a corner. Murtagh went in pursuit.

As he chased, Murtagh tried to make contact with the thief's mind and fight him. A battle he was confident he would win. But he could not find the thief's mind in the first place.

When in close and view rang, Murtagh shot a force that knocked the thief over. He came close and aimed a shot at him but the thief rolled quickly out the way. Murtagh slammed his foot down fast onto the thief's cloak making the man utter a horrible guttural choking sound. This promptly forced the man to unfasten his cloak.

Now the thief wasn't so hidden; Murtagh could see no weapons, but that didn't mean he didn't have any and now bit of the lower half of his face was visible. Murtagh pulled Zar'roc out and attack the now cloakless man.

But each swing was repelled with a strong force field of air as the thief jumped out of range. "Fight!" Murtagh yelled in annoyance. The reason why this thief was surviving was because he was so elusive.

The thief then blasted himself in the air and landed a few feet away. Murtagh watch him and was watched by him. Even now Murtagh tried to break into the thief's mind but he still could not find it. There wasn't even a block against attacks.

The man separated shaky hands very slowly, between them formed a stream of fire, of liquid fire. Murtagh readied himself. Just as Murtagh was going to offensively attack, the stream of fire spun around the thief and launched at him in such a way it looked like a red snake of fire jumped at him.

Murtagh again easily blocked the attack, but wasn't entirely ready for a flash of white light. It had its effectiveness and blinded Murtagh momentarily.

When he regained himself he found the man had disappeared. The fire whip and the light worked their effectiveness and the thief got away.

Murtagh cursed loudly at this.

Evelyn made it to her room. She immediately hid the mask and switched her clothes. She was horribly exhausted from those spells. She checked herself in the mirror; on her neck was a faint red line from where she was shortly choked, it even hurt to swallow though she knew it would disappear by morning and she knew she would have bruises all over.

She quickly fell asleep, despite Velox's chiding.

The next morning she made way to the place she was called to. She had already eaten breakfast in her room and thankfully all her bruise and cut were hidden by clothing. The visible ones, she healed.

She waited in the throne room with Lord Risthart. Risthart was fuming anxiously bumbling about but Evelyn played no attention.

Murtagh entered with an angry face, obviously. She would be surprised if he wasn't and was humming a happy tune. Basing her idea on his current state, she wondered how angry he would get if he knew it was _her_ he was fighting last night.

"Milord! I am so sorry." Lord Risthart slumped from his throne onto the ground in a pitiful way and cowered before Murtagh. "We will find who is responsible." Evelyn grimaced at the pathetic display.

"Get up." He ordered the lord with a cold and displeased voice and then spun to Evelyn. "Where were you? " he demanded loudly as he towered closely over her.

"I was asleep." She spoke lightly and to the point.

"_Asleep_?" his eyes narrowed.

"Yes. Night is usually the time where I aim to sleep." She said smartly but backed down when she realized how close he was to edge. "I didn't hear anything and no one came to wake me."

His eyes narrowed and surveyed her; he was studying her, seeing if she was lying. Evelyn eyed him back, portraying anger on her face and acting insulted that he would accuse her.

Though he kept an eye on her to see if her composure would change, he directed his attention to Risthart. "Narda and Kuasta have also built multiple fleets. Galbatorix will still be very disappointed. He has yet to decide your fate." Murtagh turned and left sharply.

"Wait!" Evelyn called after him and followed him down the hall before he turned around to her. "What, what will they do to him?" He did not reply but remained cold. "It was not his fault, he was attacked. It isn't just."

"He failed to defend His Majesty's property."

Evelyn stepped back from his frankness. "How can you say that?"

He didn't answer her but instead ordered her to pack her things and ready herself as they where returning to Uru'baen.

_Never thinks for anyone else. Just himself. _She thought, appalled.

She avoided speaking with him on the return trip and flew at a decent distance.

When she returned to Uru'baen regained certain normality. Her time was split up regularly. She had schooling and teachings with Murtagh, something that took up most of the day. Each day she improved her skills at the sword and offensive fighting, though her strong suite was defensive.

Her nights were occupied with her missions carried out as the owl masked thief. She kept her little escapades less grand than her pervious ones. One night she ran into a wanted poster of herself.

'_Armed and Dangerous'_. This made her smile. "Hardly," she said and tore the poster off the wall and crumpled it. Still she took pride in being called dangerous. She was a menace to the empire, even if it was a small one and even though she worked for the empire.

Much didn't change, though Marcus had taken a strong liking to her and tired to spend time with her.

He was a kind man, and very flirtatious. He had a fine sense of art and the political court. In other words, he was skilled at influencing others and was clever with his words. Something he had to be as his power and placement were always under threat because his father could barely hold down his throne as lord of Dras'Leona, which his sister has to marry well.

Evelyn and Marcus walked slowly through the stone cloister. Large rays of light covered the stone walkway in front of them and bathed them in soft flashes of light.

"My sister and I would like your company at dinner tonight, if you do not already have a previous engagement, of course."

"Your sister?" she could hardly believe Asteria would want her to join for supper.

"It is hard to believe," he chuckled. "Would it be more believable if I said; I, and only I, would like your company tonight…and Asteria may or may not show up?"

She agreed easily and he smiled cheerfully.

The three met in Marcus's room, smaller one than Evelyn's but much more decorated than hers. She was informed that Murtagh was supposed to come but refused.

"Probably because I'm here." Evelyn joked lightly thinking none of it.

"Probably." Asteria retorted coldly.

Why Asteria was so obsessed with Murtagh was something that Evelyn just couldn't wrap her head around. She knew Asteria needed a husband but didn't she think she was aiming a little high? There must be plenty of other men that are a little more reasonable. He was handsome, she'd give him that, and she was pretty too, so that is understandable but…personality? Morals?

How could she get over that? Well, they're both alike, she guessed. Annoying, snobbish, cold, and arrogant and above all else, shared a certain dislike for me. She may be able to look over all that but Evelyn could, would never, ever overcome his pride and apathetic behavior.

…..

Murtagh walked his normal pace, though to anyone else they would see a man of just 20 walking with right posture and a level head. He was aiming for his room but slowed when he noticed someone was just a head of him.

"It's ridiculous brother." A sharp female's voice continued.

"Yes, well you will have to wait."

"I cannot! I haven't the patience." She whipped at the man.

Murtagh recognized the voices; Marcus of Dras-Leona and his younger sister Asteria. He rounded the corner slowly and the couple startled at him.

"Friend." Marcus said in a breath.

"Marcus, Lady Asteria." He thought of titling his head out of politeness but the thought was fleeting and Marcus spoke anyway, interrupting.

"My sister has been hounding me constantly of your absence." Marcus smiled and Asteria hid her face in mock embarrassment. Murtagh held himself from rolling his eyes and pointing out her childish behavior. Small talk and idle conversations did little to nothing for him.

"She feels the reason you didn't come was because of Lady Evelyn."

"Marcus!" she yelped with bashfulness.

"The presence of Lady Evelyn does not vex me." Murtagh said plainly, in a flat tone.

"I cannot say she thinks likewise of you." Asteria putted out.

"So I'm aware of," his tone remaining the same.

"Well, Marcus dear, has been spending a considerable amount of time with her. We should let him be the judge." She spun her little blond head to her brother and with a coy smile asked; "How has your time with our dear friend Lady Evelyn?"

Murtagh did not have the time for this. Asteria's antics were frivolous and she must be so naïve to put so much time and effort into socials. Is she not aware of what was going on? There are more important things to deal with, other than insulting another.

"Oh, what an enjoyable creature, I must say. She is quite amusing. She speaks so strangely." Marcus said sweetly. Murtagh never trusted Marcus, something did not settle right with him.

"Yes, amusing." Asteria forcefully chuckled.

"And handsome." Marcus continued.

"Really," she unconvincingly smiled, "Lord Morzansson, your opinion? After all my is already well known."

"She can be very troublesome, I find." He answered.

"Well, I for one must confess that I could never see any beauty in her. She's a skinny girl, no womanly traits at all, looks boyish, the way her hair is cut. Her face and nose are too thin; her complexion is weathered_,__ bronzed skin," _she scoffed. "Completely intolerable, for a woman of her status. One would think she is a peasant boy! Can hardly find a handsome feature on her. Lacks character. Tolerable, perhaps, but that's all."

"You are so blatant with your opinion. Perhaps you are being too harsh with your judgment."

"Lord Morzansson, one might assume."

"What might one assume?" he kept his face in check.

"As you are so confident there is an attractive feature on her, pray, do tell us where it may be hiding." She smiled and bobbed flirtatiously.

"_Asteria!"_ Marcus scolded her.

Murtagh frowned. He wasn't entirely sure what Asteria's plan was but he was sure he had enough. His patience was becoming apparent. With that he took his leave still aiming to make it to his room.

However, again he heard more footsteps, but this time it was Evelyn.

She held a small book in her hands and was immersed in it, she hadn't noticed him. She paced back and forth in front of one of the stained windows. It cast a warm glow into the hallway which she passed over, covering herself in the orangey light.

Murtagh recognized the book, it was a little one he had already read, and she must have gotten it from the library. It was a small but in depth descriptions of various species of dragon with excellent diagrams and fairths depicting them. He knew she couldn't read that kind of script, so he took it as the attraction of the pictures.

She spun and now faced him but her attention was still in the fabric bound book. Only then did she take notice of him. She stood still for a moment, perhaps in shock from someone stumbling in on her privacy. Her bookmark slipped and fell out of the book; she retrieved her attention to pick it up.

"Lord Morzansson." There was no reason to raise her voice in the quiet place.

"Good evening."

She waited, maybe politely to see if he would say anything else. But when neither of them did Evelyn took the lead to leave. "I suppose I should be going; it's getting late." Murtagh nodded. She passed him quickly and hurried down the hall. Murtagh, with atypical interest looked over his shoulder at her leave. She glided and tapped her fingers along the stone walls as she passed.

Murtagh frowned at himself.

* * *

Ohhh notice the lightening over the desert? Something's afoot!

Any questions? Opinions? I listen to 'em!

READ!

So I don't own any one. All characters I use are real and are in the book. (Except tilda, Asteria and marcus). Risthart is in the actual book and is the lord of Teirm. So im surprised at how well im story fits with the actual book. I must say im doing one bitchen plot line. Don't believe me? Compare on inheriwiki!

Im actually trying really hard to get the facts right and have my story compatible with the actual one, which is partially the reason why im so slow. (making the plot woot!)

**********Also I have started a new story: **Sins of Our Fathers**. It is about Galbatorix's life, childhood and all. You should really check it out. Ive got the whole plot planned out for it.


	13. To be Social

**Chapter 13: To Be Social **

It began circulating, though quietly and in hushed rumors, that the raid was a planned attack by the elves and led by the masked thief, commonly known as the Owl Thief. That bit of information was pushed forward by Murtagh the most. He wanted Evelyn's alter ego found more than anyone, he felt that, when she stole the carriage of gold for the Varden, it personally attacked his pride and of course he wanted revenge or some sort of justice.

She wasn't really sure if he held her suspect, which made playing her alter ego's role even harder, though she was sure he didn't otherwise he would have her arrested under suspicion. She was never sure if it was safe to walk outside and put on the mask, then only to find out she was being followed.

New guards were put up with tighter security, though the security was aimed at keeping invaders out it ended up working both ways just as effectively.

Aside from that exciting event, not much had passed in the short week. Evelyn aided in the finalization on the agreement between the Empire and the Eastern Desert Tribes, but little else happened.

In her physical fighting she improved little; she was able to easily dodge, more like running away from Murtagh, and at time even deflect any blows but her offensive was weak, though she did improve greatly in her magic.

Evelyn held onto the leather bound book casually in a loose grip. She was encouraged, more really told to, always wear her sword or be armed. It hung at an angle so it would hit her leg as she walked, from her belt around her beige smock.

She open a small side door that entered the old library, the larger two hadn't been open and hadn't looked like they were in use. The first time she came to the library she was well indeed shocked but the more often she comes, less so.

It looked, Evelyn imagined, like the library was massive and filled with books, scrolls, texts of all sorts, arts and sculptures at one time. Now it had scorch marks and broken wood and chips on the ground and most of it was draped off in dark cloth. The architecture made more sense knowing city was once an elvish city before it was taken by Galbatorix. Unfortunately the castle took a beating during the sieges, and undoubtedly Galbatorix must have burnt many of the texts at the start of his power. He left this room, and this room alone, to its disrepair, for whatever reason she didn't know.

The room was once lit by the sun that peered through tall stain glass windows but now covered by dark red and black sheets the only light source is the small candles and torches set here and there.

A reader, though no one ever ventured in here, would be forced to bring his own candle as a source of light—there would be no hope of reading if it was forgotten.

Evelyn moved to place the small book away but heard a rustle, and instead of finishing her set task of returning the book she walked over to the sound.

Behind an old bookshelf was Murtagh sitting at a large deep colored wooden table. He had a candle on a tin stand set in front of him and lit ones on the library's candle stands. The light danced and the orange light lit his face just before the shadow came back.

He stood up at the invader of his peace even it uttered a word. His instinctive reaction was unparallel.

"Murtagh." She said, slightly startled, "I thought this place was deserted," she said with her off accent, "I thought I was the only person who came in here. I'm returning a book I took." She wondered if she would begin explaining every detail of her life in the same manner she gave her excuse. He sat back down understanding that he wasn't needed. She moved closer to the wooden table he was at to get a look at what it was he was doing.

On the table were maps, in varying sizes and textures, some older than others and some in books. He looked up from his work at her and she could tell quite easily that he didn't want to be disturbed, but just before she disappeared behind the bookshelf she stopped to ask something.

"I was told, earlier today, that you and Thorn won't be teaching us anymore."

"You were told correctly." His tone was clipped.

"And that we were to be taught by Galbatorix and Shruikan. Why?" She turned her body to face him now, now that a conversation would begin.

He set down his quill, "I've been teaching you and reporting back to Galbatorix. He feels you familiar with the subjects enough to be taught by him now. He will be teaching us both now. Does that answer your question?"

The light hint of arrogance didn't pass her, or was it annoyance? She couldn't tell the difference and frankly she didn't care. Either way it was unkind and meant to have the same effect. "Yes," she said with a light forced smile, "Thank you."

With a heavy step she put the old book back and randomly picked up another.

She grunted, unladylike of course, at her temper. He wasn't very amiable; she came to that conclusion multiple times, this was just another. He was so unbearable to be around. She came up with so many reasons why. Among them were the possible ideas of her inferiority or her lack of intelligence and common sense needed for this world or skills or something of that matter.

Evelyn had found a quiet place to read that she had been going to for several days now. It was just off a rarely visited corridor and held a stain glass window that was perfectly situated on the south side of the castle, its advantageous stop allowed maximum sun light in, perfect for reading.

Evelyn had always been a patron of the written word, despite not being to read this new writing. She was always invading people's libraries.

She hoped to find some elvish writing but she was told that when Galbatorix took power he burnt most of the elvish and dwarvish books and texts and very little amount of books survived, compared to the vast amount that had once taken residence in the library.

She flipped through the pages unable to read the words but admired them as works of art. If there was a picture she would stop and give it its appropriate understandings. She barely notice a little note scribbled in elvish on the margin. She turned the book sideways to read it.

Though bit of her grammar wasn't perfect she was able to make out several words and sentences and form a meaning.

"Huh," she sounded, "that sounds interesting. I suppose I could try it."

…

Evelyn sat on top a wood barrel with her sword in between her knees and legs. She wore a beige wool tunic with emerald trim and rolled up sleeves that reveled her forearm guards she wore for protection, and beige wool tights that laced up along the legs and her comfortable leather, soft soled, ankle boots. She was softly whistling to herself.

Murtagh sat across from her, sharpening his own sword, Zar'roc, when Galbatorix came in. Both turned their heads to the door he entered and stood from their seats. Evelyn followed Murtagh's actions a little less fluently than he.

Though he was still equally intimidating, it was a sort of different intimidation. Then she was inches away from death, now she was expected to learn from him as a teacher.

He walked with little interest in his surroundings, though she knew in reality he must have paid the highest attention to it. He would be a fool not.

Galbatorix had abandoned the heavy, dark cape this time, but continued with the dark-themed clothes. His thin mouth and lower half of his scar, the long one that traced from his lower left ear to left side of chin, was covered in a short but thick and dark beard. He must have grown his beard in the time that passed since she last saw him.

His hair was short too and matched his beard quiet easily. And similar to Murtagh most of the emotions passed through him were portrayed through his eyes solely, but he had dark, hallow and heavy eyes and they were hard to make out.

He was a tall lean man of about 6 feet and despite his age, 135 years old, he looked just shy of fifty.

"Ah, Evelyn." He greeted with a genial tone.

"Sir…?" Evelyn replied guardedly.

He smiled at her and pulled of his glove and handed them to a well dressed servant and waved him away. He turned her way with a raised arm above his head. The area around his hand darkened until little sparks of purple-white formed and quickly grew into long bolts of lightning. "Garjzla sans saka, ver' sker." He spoke calmly and drew his arm from perpendicular to the ground to parallel.

The ground snapped when and crackled when a bolt was launched from his fingers slid over the ground, heading in her direction. The loose sand and dirt that covered the area floor flew up like two massive waves.

Her eyes were wide with fear. "Jump Evelyn!" She heard. She dived to her left into the grounds. It made a loud snap when it died. She rolled onto her back to see the damage.

The path of the bolt was lined with tubes of black glass, fulgurite. And the barrel she was sitting on had been thrown back by the force and what pieces that remained was lit on fire.

"Oh don't look so worried Murtagh. If you recall that happened to you too on your first day," Galbatorix stood over Evelyn's shocked body and said, without giving aid to help her up, "always be aware. What if I was an elf, sent here to kill you?" he raised his eyebrows at his own question, "disguised as Galbatorix?"

"Let's go again." That was all too familiar. She glanced at Murtagh remembering when he would say that to her. _Again_. She hated that word, that meaning; it wasn't good enough. She hadn't expected to be amazing on her first try or on her second, but the coldness of the word _again_ went through her spine like ice. She missed her mother's positive reassurance. She missed her mother. But she was _here_ and she had to get through _this,_ _now_.

Galbatorix titled his head back to Evelyn, who had now picked herself up off the ground and dusted herself off. She was in a stance; with her fingers spread and arms out in front and knees bent, ready for a spell. "But this time I'm _ready_."

Galbatorix let a small crude smile snake across his face. "You may start."

Evelyn took a deep breath and let it out. 'Remember,' she remembered what she read in the book the day before, 'use physical things, use your surroundings.'

Murtagh watched Evelyn with a close but hesitantly nervous eye. She rested there, her eyes closed and let out a deep breath, 'she would have to unlearn that', he thought, 'if she wants to win in a fight'. She raised her arms and lips moved to form a spell, he saw knew what it was by the motion of her lips; her second failure. With the same fluidity as her movements the sand-turned-glass snapped and floated around her until, with the same motion as her hands, whipped out and the sharp shards of glass sped through the air at Galbatorix.

Though impressive as the display was, he easily protected himself with a simple but powerful guarding spell. Murtagh could not read any expressions on Galbatorix's face as he spun his hands in a sphere like motion and thrust a dense ball of air.

Her third mistake; she had not anticipated a retaliation.

The first wave caught her off guard and she was knocked over the force but didn't seem to get to her. Like when she fought Murtagh she just got back on her feet and this time in time for Galbatorix's next wave.

Murtagh respectfully handed it to her; she was determined or _stubborn _as foolish as it was, every time he beat her and she fall but every time she would get right back up and get into her stance—ready for more.

Before the air wave hit her she slammed her feet down on the ground and muttered in a grunt a spell that raised a thick angled wall of solid earth.

When Galbatorix reached his maximum boredom, the windstorm passed she lowered the wall. She was hunched over and panting. Her hair had fallen out of its neat placement.

She was just able to keep up with Galbatorix despite that he was going easy on her.

"Give up?" The king asked lightly, not putting any meaning or effort into the sentence.

"No," she took in a deep breath. "Not yet," she panted out.

She jumped up from her relaxed position and with her movement a large dust cloud came to life. The constant movement made objects harder to see.

But just as quickly as she put the cover up Galbatorix, with an effortless hand, casted it down and not to his surprise he found Evelyn charging at him with a small practice sword.

Just as he started, Galbatorix shot a purple-white bolt of lightning at her charging form. She saw the sparks form and knew well enough what was going to happen.

This was him going easy; giving her the same spell, even though it was beyond her ability to overcome.

Quickly she threw her small sword up into the air and at the bolt as she dived down for safe ground. The bolt changed course, attracted to the metal, and collided with the cold metal which ended with the sword snapping and crackling in mid air.

Evelyn rolled onto her back and let out a long held in breath. "Damn," she breathed and closed her eyes.

Galbatorix's slow clapping shook her back, "very clever, not so strong or powerful but very clever and wasteful."

She returned him a confused look.

"You have limited power and you use vague words, you are wasting your power. But more direct words will save up power and strength."

He walked away and spun around with a fearsome stance. "Again!"

She grunted at that word. Evelyn was exhausted after every try and he was relentless but she was determined.

She never won a fight with Galbatorix and she never came close really but she soon had an extensive library of spell words in all their complex forms. She forced herself to remember them, to learn them, to _know_ them.

Quickly her back became sore from being thrown to the ground.

She was pitted against Murtagh in mini fights and it was a sore slap on the face when she realized she actually wasn't that good at winning a fight. Once maybe twice she would surprise him but not enough to win. She knew, though she had to tell herself, they weren't going as hard as they could on her.

It was a good day when she had at most five wounds. Every day she would get hurt but with the new convenience of magic they were healed. None were caused by a rider's sword so there were no scars unlike the one that danced across her chest.

It was an ugly scar, the width of a sword and white. Most days she didn't even notice it, it was barely in her view and it was always under her shirt collar. On the occasion it would attack with a sharp but brief pain, but only when she exerted herself.

One time she was using her own sword but the sudden acute pain was so unbearable she dropped her sword and clutched to the point of interest.

There wasn't much she could do about it. At least the pain was brief.

….

It was different to see her in pain. Difficult.

Murtagh knew his place and kept his expressions in check. He had seen people in pain, even cause it and to goal of death, but this was different.

Evelyn began helping him on his tasks by order of Galbatorix. Her insight was clever, different. He found that most of her ideas leant towards the safety of people than actual battles.

The conversation with Asteria and Marcus had suddenly pulled a new focus on Evelyn. Since they lightly mentioned it he could not ignore it. Couldn't ignore her.

…

Evelyn skimmed her hands along the book bindings in the library. She couldn't read the titles scribed onto their sides but she pretended she could and imagined what they said. Soon enough she began to notice similar shapes and symbols in the titles, which were most likely words or individual letters.

Her eye set on a bright blue leather book. She flipped through the pages quickly unsure of what it said or what it was about. There were many charts, maps and diagrams of people laid out in patterns.

"Interesting choice." Murtagh appeared at the end of the shelf and asked. She jumped lightly and pulled her hands, which were holding the book, close to her chest for protection, but quickly regained herself.

"How so?" she raised her eyebrow.

"It is not a popular subject; Theories on region, land and it's politics. Young women don't usually read this sort of thing, even if you are a dragon rider you do not need to read that you are taught it."

He was attempting conversation. By demeaning her sex in a clever way she would retaliate or laugh girlishly. This was not him; this was so, too much, unlike him. It was just slightly uncomfortable but he continued anyway. Murtagh stereotyped, demeaned or underestimated anyone and he knew that she had the capability to read a text on that subject. He had seen this technique in court and, dumbfounded, it worked. He observed then briefly in a desperate plea for amusement but now he observed to understand.

It was a joke, to lightly demean her sex and she would cleverly and jokingly retaliate with girlish spite.

Evelyn was offended. Her cheeks grew red but she tried to calm herself. Through tight lips she said; "One does not read because they _need_ to, they read for personal enlightenment and expansive knowledge… why? Some people can't experience things, they just aren't available to them, so in order to experience them they read about it, well actually in my world you watch but you don't have here. Why? Are you surprised that _I_ chose it?"

"No, not surprised. Curious maybe but not surprised."

"Curious? As to what?"

"As I said; it is not a popular book. I was curious as to whether or not this subject interests you or if you feel obligated, forced, into learning this but you have already answered that for me. I have read that book but I find practice more understandable or approachable."

"Obligated?" she said, more offended. "What? I don't off as well-read and open-minded? I will have you know I have studied theory vs. application in school and I think theory broadens the mind."

"So you favor theory?" he asked intently.

"No." She said, "Application is just as good and effective. However how can you apply something when you haven't got an idea, the theory?" she tried to stop her face from lighting up, "Besides I picked this book up because politics do interest me, especially from this era and I find old men's theories and proposals on politics ridiculous and amusing." she smiled to herself.

"I see," he said more to himself than to her. "But I have one question, before you go."

"What?"

"How are you to read it?"

Her face went smug only because she had an answer on the tip of her tongue. "Marcus."

"Marcus?"

"Yes, he is going to read to me. I am partial to books and well, it was his idea. I couldn't refuse. "

"Ah Evelyn," Marcus came beside the two and place an arm around Evelyn's shoulders Evelyn flinched slightly, uncomfortable by the close proximity. Murtagh noticed this but to her relief said nothing.

"Morzansson." Marcus said in monotone.

"Son of Tábor." Murtagh returned just the same. Marcus pulled Evelyn in closer, heightening her lack of comfort.

Air became colder, feeding off the unfriendliness that was emitted from the two men. Evelyn nearly had chills.

"What took you so long?" he asked her.

"Held up; I was talking with Murtagh about women and reading." She kept her eye on Murtagh when she spoke.

"_Murtagh_?" It was the oddity that she addressed him by his first name, "Ah well. Good day _Morzansson?_"

Murtagh simply nodded his head and turned away. The two stood there, she a little more confused than him.

"Which book did you choose?" He asked a second later and she handed him the book. "_Theories on politics_… what a dull subject." He muttered to himself, not intending her to hear it.

Evelyn looked over her shoulder at Murtagh but he was already gone.

Why is it with every person he meets he is so unfriendly?

…

There are many things that Murtagh does not trust. He has grown up being cautious and careful, especially with people, even more so with people of status. They can be manipulative and selfish at their best.

He didn't trust Marcus for obvious reasons and did not like the influence he had on Evelyn. He knew Marcus since he came here and other than their pretence of a friendship they had nothing in common. To Murtagh, Marcus was just another son of a Lord in court and to Marcus, Murtagh was a dragon rider. To each other they were just titles. Murtagh could understand why Marcus would 'befriend' him, as the title of a Dragon Rider would be quite advantageous in court. Murtagh is a must have ally.

It wasn't too long after Murtagh got Thorn and Galbatorix trusted him enough to be unguarded and move about the castle and grounds, did Marcus's sister Asteria start to _pay attention_ to him. At first it did not bother Murtagh at all but now it was annoying.

Murtagh supposed that; she was of marring age and so was he, the only way for woman to secure a life and money is through marriage and Murtagh is now a dragon rider, not to mention Galbatorix's right-hand-man, and that would make him rich, very rich.

He assumed that one-day, eventually, he would get a wife… or maybe he won't, but he could not think of those sorts of things now. The thought of a wife was a fleeting one, a vague one; he has never seen a marriage actually work; most were arranged by parents, and didn't look appealing and the girls at court were foolish and silly, caring for mundane things like fashion and such oddities.

Indeed, it was a fleeting and vague thought. Who knows what the future holds for him, maybe he will marry Asteria or maybe he will marry a peasant girl from the Spine. Maybe he won't marry at all.

…_.._

Murtagh made his way to the practice rink in the early morning and was surprised to see Evelyn outside of the rink before him, normally she would come after him or be late but there she was laughing and jumping around with her dragon Velox in tow.

"Ah!" she said when she saw him, breathing hard. "Oh you're here."

"You are...early." he said and though it wasn't a question she still answered.

"Yes!" she said; still trying to suppress her earlier mood, "I woke up early this morning." She looked alarmingly well and lively, Murtagh acknowledged, her eyes bright and clear and her cheeks glowing even though she tried not to show her happy mood.

"Do you mind if I walk you inside?" he asked and she hesitantly answered. "No," raising her eyebrow slightly. Curiously, he wondered if she was being polite with him.

"Did you enjoy your book?" he asked cautiously, he was never good at idle conversation.

"Yes," she said, still hesitant but he smiled at her answer. They walked in silence for a few seconds and then she turned to him.

"I think I understand."

"I beg your pardon."

"You were surprised that I choose that book, yes? because you didn't think of me as well-read but rather superficial? I am not like the girls at court, not like _Asteria,_" Murtagh understood that as her implying his, what he knew as, his non-existent relationship. "Are you surprised by this? or better yet; do you find me an accomplished person? Believe me, I would be surprised if you did." She said with a light hit of contempt directed to him. She was still annoyed with him and insulted, she would get back at him before the day was over.

"There are many different types of accomplishments but yes, I do find you an accomplished person. Though, I thought nothing of you, you're intelligence never crossed my mind as did nothing else concerning you." He lied but she seemed convinced.

"You are a very complicated person." She said, still completely unconvinced but pretended she was.

"What do you mean?"

"Your answer does not seem honest, from what I know of you, but the tone of your voice is telling a completely different story. You praise me by insulting me."

"You find studying and ridiculing people's characters amusing?"

"Oh, yes," she agreed, with exaggerated excitment. " One of my favorite things to do. You should try it sometime, though you wouldn't get many chances since you don't socialize and avoid court."

"_Avoiding court,"_ he said, "has done me more better than joining it. By avoiding it I have avoided diluting myself." The air snapped between them.

"Hardly," Evelyn let out a soft scoff and hoped he heard and be offended. "If fact it would be the opposite." _Yes, if you spent your entire, sole time there, then yes, maybe_. She thought but continued on; "But if you are expanding your surroundings by this then I'd hardly call it diluting yourself."

Evelyn was not sure why she was defending court. She wanted to intelligently smart him but she found it funny, lively and enjoyable but not to the point that she would rise to an argument to defend its usefulness. But yet she found herself defending it still.

"I have," Murtagh defended himself, "and believe me you; I have had my fare share of court to be well saturated in the concept and I am quite well done of it now." His bluntness put an end to it. Evelyn took this as his surrender; she had won, despite how trivial it was. He past her and she smirked at his back side by her victory.

…

Galbatorix lost his patients with teaching. Something was on his mind. This _thing_ could have easily been dealt with by someone who was thickheaded, irrational or brutish but Galbatorix is no fool. This _thing_ called for strategy, fineness.

He sent his pair students away with one look and a quick wave of the hand.

Something was on his mind. Something that had to be dealt with but it was a difficult deal with. He needed a goal achieved but the tool to use it with was also a great threat.

With the same quick wave of the wrist that sent the two young dragon riders off he signaled Frick to come to him.

"Get me all of the spies' intelligence." He stared out in a hazy view but his mind was working more than he let to believe.

Sorry this took so long XD. My father was in the hospital but is all well now and out. I was spending most to all of my time in there and was too busy or too stressed to work on the story but im here to stay now :D

This is a shorter chapter because I want to leave a bit of a cliffhanger aha im evil. XD

So questions?

I finally brought Galbatorix in! its so much harder to describe an evil guy who is physically evil but I wanted Galbatorix to be just evil in the mind. But looks nice and lean not butch looming. Like the devil; handsome but evil.

What do you think of him?

Any questions? Id love to answer them!

Also im writing another story call the Sins Of Our Fathers. Its about Galbatorix's life up to until when the first book starts. He is a very dynamic character and I want his life to be a little less stereotypical, not all round evil kinda deal. So check it out if you like this one :) see you around.


	14. To be the Bait

Chapter 14: To Be The Bait

It was a dangerous mission, by far the hardest. No one was let in on it except those who were a part of it. Evelyn didn't even know who, other than herself, Velox, Murtagh and Thorn, were a part of it. This kept everyone from talking about it.

Evelyn would be the first to admit that she could use some more training but she was confident enough to carry on with it.

She sat in a chair in a massive room. Nearly every public room in the castle was accessible to dragons since at one time most of the castle was a school for dragon riders and was the home of the old order.

Velox and Thorn lay comfortably under the high, elf-made, vaulted ceiling. Thorn had grown bored but, like Murtagh, never showed an emotion but simply sat there, seemingly content.

Murtagh was in constant movement around the room and around the wooden table Evelyn sat at. He moved with a strong knowing or determination to get a tablet or a scroll, which he happened to know exactly where it was, despite the numerous amounts of scrolls, and come back to the table. He would then examine the scroll, mark a map and then cross reference it with another piece of parchment that was already on the table.

_He's ridiculous. _She rolled her eyes and Velox chuckled. Evelyn nearly laughed when he tried to pass it off as a small cough to Thorn.

She leaned out of her chair and over the table. The map, a map she had grown relatively familiar with had pins stuck into it with strings connecting them across a vast distance and little blue marked stones and red marked stones.

Evelyn had seen this large map before; this wasn't her first time in the war room, but every time she entered that room the map was always changed.

The blue stones represented the Varden's number of force and the red ones did the same for the Empire. The Empire's force number out flanked the Varden's a 10 fold.

But it was the strings that Murtagh kept moving and attaching that interested her.

"What are these?"

"They show the most common patrol lines for the Varden. Intelligence," he pointed at a scroll on the table, "retrieved from our spies tells that something important will be crossing X to X in three days time and naturally Galbatorix wants it intercepted."

"That's where we come in?" the answer was obvious. "I know the plan…but what is with all this?" she ran her finger along on the suspended strings.

"Figuring out the best intercepting point is." He was being vague with her. There was very little she knew or, if she dare even say, understood, about Murtagh but she always noticed that he was to the point. He was being vague with her now.

It came clear to her that no one or less than three people at best knew the plan. This unnerved her. Angela.

_No. _Velox lifted his heavy head off the marble ground.

_They need to be told._ Evelyn itched in her chair.

"Okay." She concluded with Murtagh. "When do we leave exactly?" she looked up at him from her chair.

_Told what?_

She started to roll her eyes at the obvious answer but caught herself knowing Murtagh and Thorn were in the room too. It was difficult to keep up two separate conversations at the same time.

"Tomorrow, morning. You've already been told." He reminded her.

_They could be ambushed and I don't think Murtagh will just let them walk away with a ticket!_

She frowned, trying to remember but for the sake of keeping her current cover she gave in, "Oh yes! I remember now, tomorrow."

_What would you tell them? You don't even know where they plan to attack…I understand, I want to help too but you know so little. Your information has little value and you'd be risking your life to give it to them. Murtagh doesn't even know where the attack will take place. The Varden might miss them and be safe you would have risked your life and mine! for no reason._

There was a long pause before she replied but Velox felt her emotions deep inside him and she knew his answer before she even asked. _I have to._

Murtagh had finished with Evelyn before the sun was near setting. This gave her plenty of time to find out if Angela was in town.

Angela's visits became increasingly sparse and Evelyn's ability to sneak out in the middle of the night to meet with her became increasingly difficult as the security grew tighter. When Angela came to Uru'bean, she always went to a particular tavern, her favorite, and when she was there she put up a wooden sign. It was a large toad with small herbs at the bottom. She struck up a deal with the bar owner; giving him free mixes and pastes of her finest herbs for medicine and he allowed her to put up her sign.

She said she was a traveling herbalist and medicine-woman and had quite a reputation. By putting up her sign her loyal customers would know she was here and pay a visit. It wasn't a whole lie. It was used for Evelyn but also for customers.

Knowing she couldn't just leave without reason and that she would be followed and escorted by guards, Evelyn began groaning about a particular pie, and that Angela's tavern had the best, no offense to the castle chef.

She and her group of guards walked through the crowded streets to this particular tavern. Evelyn wasn't used to walking by streets to get the tavern; she had been so used to jumping from rooftop to rooftop in the middle of the night.

Her eyes combed the crowds for Angela, her frightening cat or anyone she recognized.

They got to the tavern but there was nothing. No sign. She began frantically looking around, going back outside casually, as not to attract attention from her guards, looking at the wall, nothing.

Finally she was forced to give up and get her pie. She left grudgingly and nervously, still looking for anyone or anything that might indicate the Varden. She started to panic and worry as to how she would, could inform them about the Empire's plans. She started hoping that Murtagh's plans would fail and that they wouldn't work. About how, in anyway, her alter ego could interfere and ruin the plan, saving the Vardeners.

She crossed her fingers hoping Murtagh's plan failed, but shook her head, feeling that that was wrong to hope for; his failure. That wasn't what she wanted. She wanted the Vardeners safe, that's all.

She was the unfortunate lucky one. She was the bait. She was only the bait because she was the only girl.

Carefully rumors were put out that a very powerful lord had sent for his daughter and his possessions from his residence to the capital for safety. It was a vague rumor with many variations, which made it believable.

Evelyn stepped off the cobblestone walkway and into the dark stained carriage. It looked like a big black wood box in tow of a horse. It was a fine carriage, again to encourage its believability, with carved designs and fringes hanging from the windows which had bars on a hinge that were now open. The back and most of the sides were plated for protection and had part decorative, part defensive metal spikes.

Evelyn looked the part, just as the carriage did its. She wore a well tailored coat made of bushy furs and velvet with brass buttons and chains. She did not wear a dress underneath, though that would be what was expected if she really was just a lady, instead she wore her thick, protected-padded, leather pants that laced all the way up her leg and vest over a grey and blue tunic. She had thick padded arm guards that came to cover the top of her hand.

She knew she was going to fight so she armed herself in protection and with Earth at her side, safely hidden from view by her thick coat.

Velox wore armor too, only on his neck and chest; his most vulnerable places. There wasn't expected to be a heavy fight, not even a light squabble, but better safe than sorry.

The intention was to lure the Vardeners in with a highly desired commodity; gold. They were Vardeners so the attack would be minimal since they truly meant no harm, which opened a window of opportunity for a bigger, better surprise attack. With a handful of Vardeners in Galbatroix's cells there would a handy ransom reward. A reward Galbatorix intends to reap.

Evelyn leaned out the window to gaze around at the keep before they left. On the stairs was Murtagh, he was yelling orders to some officers behind Evelyn's carriage. He finished and caught sight of Evelyn's face peeping out of the window. His face made an odd grimace before he quickly turned away to his other officers. _I think he smiled, or tried to. _

Velox took off along with Thorn, Murtagh on his back, and Evelyn waved a light hand to Velox. It was a bumpy ride to where ever they were headed to; Evelyn rested her head against the side and gazed out the window, usually following Velox's light cloudy shadow. It was a boring ride, and a boring flight for Velox. They were too detached, this distance, though she could still see him, barely, it was too much. Taunting and tormenting. Velox was ordered to fly high above the clouds but he would slowly descent and become visible for Evelyn.

Of course Thorn hissed at Velox to climb higher.

Sitting across from Evelyn in her carriage was a foot soldier or a guard of some sort. She didn't need him, but his strength gave her this sense of protection. He was a thick a man with a fat face and short grimy hair; he looked no different than any other solider in Galbatorix's army.

At some point she fell asleep or was so lost in a daydream that she was jolted back to reality. There was yelling outside and the carriage sped up making it that much more bumpy. The man grunted in his discomfort and placed a heavy hand on his hilt and leaned out of his seat to the window to yell at the drivers.

It was hardly a sound but afterwards, when Evelyn thinks it over she can just hear the sound of air, a whooshing or puff sound.

The man was thrown back against the wall of the carriage and slumped on his seat. Evelyn jumped back in shock. There, protruding out of his thick skull, was an arrow.

Evelyn's breath was stuck in her chest.

As quickly as the arrow hit, blood began to leak out of the wound and pool in the small dips of his face, the man's mouth hung open and drooly-blood dripped out of his mouth on onto his chest. His eyes rolled far back into his head, she was well able to see the whites of his eyes, and his fingers twitched as the nerve endings began to lose their connection.

Chips of wood, from where the arrow nicked the window side, were spread all across the carriage floor and on Evelyn. She moved to the window to see what was happening. She gripped on the window pane and with a careful eye she peeked out. Galloping at the same speed where a handful of horses, one closer than the others. On them were men flailing swords and bows. The closer one held a crossbow which he aimed, aimed at Evelyn. With as much force as she had she pushed herself away from the window and safely into her seat.

"Oh my god!" she tried to yell but only sucked in air.

The thick arrow sped through her carriage but lodged itself in the other side. Another arrow hit, and then two more, their metal tips just barely visible in the wood. Afraid of sitting too close to a wall for fear of getting jabbed by the incoming arrows, that were strong enough to pierce through the sides.

_Velox, I'm scared. _She whimpered.

She didn't know what to do. She couldn't jump from the carriage, it was moving too fast and even if she did, she had no way of knowing where the attackers were. The moment she opened the door to jump she could be hit with a sword or an arrow. Her guard, he was supposed to tell her the next move but he…he was dead.

_I'm coming_, she could tell he was anxious.

The dead man. He wobbled when the carriage moved. Dead man.

_Velox please hurry._

Velox was falling fast, fueled with determination. Thick clouds looked like nothing more than little wisps flying past his head, and the brown and green ground grew bigger and more defined with each second.

To on lookers he was a bright green bullet, with his wings tucked tightly to his side. When his nose was practically touching the ground he curved up and banked the ground, landing with wings spread far out.

"Riders!" she heard someone outside yell.

The earth shook when he landed and other then being jolted around, Evelyn was relieved by this.

_Velox I need to see!_

"Skulblakas ven," she whispered and her eyes changed to a deep emerald green.

Everything green was vibrant, similar t Evelyn sight but far stronger. Velox swung his head around to survey the area. There was about 20 men in the ambush, all foot soldiers, and they had 12 men, but plus two riders.

Velox jumped closer to the carriage, roaring at the ambushers, frightening their horses making then jump back.

Evelyn moved out of the carriage and unbuttoned the heavy cloak with one hand. She came to stand just underneath Velox's long neck but didn't mount him.

_Where is Thorn? And Murtagh?_

_On the other side of the carriage._ He tilted his head in that direction and she followed. She caught sight of Thorns red wings high in the air.

In front of her, the ambushers didn't move, and neither did she. She extended her arms out, ready for magic. She wasn't one to attack, only defensive and these men were too afraid to attack her.

After a moment or two one man did, he lifted up his crossbow and shot it at them. "Skölir," she yelled out and the arrow hit her shield and fell to the ground. It was then they all seemed to work up some courage and charge at them.

"Thrysta vindr!" and launched a ball of air them knocking a few down. Velox roar and being just under him Evelyn had to cover her ears, and breathe a hot line of fire between them and the attackers.

With 12 foot soldiers and Murtagh and Thorn, the ambushers had been cut down like grass. Evelyn doused Velox's fire when the fight ended. There were dead men, no injured—just dead, all over the small area of land. She marched with a heavy, angry step towards Murtagh.

"What's going on?" she demanded, "why are they all dead? I was under the impression we were supposed to capture them! No kill them!"

"The plan has changed," he said simply.

"The plan has changed! How? Were or were not our orders to bring back prisoners? _Living ones_?" She tilted her chin up in defiance at him, to meet his eyes. The men around them tried not to stare.

Velox snorted in agreement.

"We don't need to anymore," he spoke through his teeth and in a hushed tone trying not to attract attention and clearly annoyed by her display. "Their leader, a much more important man."

Her mouth hung open in disgust and she shook her head lightly. "More, more important?" her face was hot and eyes were wet, she had stopped her yelling but spoke in an angered hushed tone. "What gives you the right to decide that _his_ life is more important than all these men?"

He didn't answer; he thought the answer was obvious. He was just about to walk away when she spoke again.

"Are we going to bury them?" again he didn't answer, didn't even look at her. It strained her to talk, she was so mad, "please tell me you had every intention of burring them." Still nothing. "What if it was you in their place?" she said even quieter, so only he could hear.

"I would never be in their situation."

She made a sarcastic smile, "_Never_? Well I can honestly say I had _never_ imagined I'd be here. Never in my wildest dreams did I ever think that I might be sucked out of my bed only to wake up in a desert with a baby dragon, to be caged, to be tortured, to be _stabbed_,to be able to do magic,…but here I am. Now those men, respected their bodies, cared for them, loved them, and just because they were fighting on the opposite team than you does not give you the permission to let their bodies rot. Every man deserves to be treated with the same equality as the next, they are no more, no less important than you, or me or anyone else. You will be remembered Murtagh, by people all around the world when you die, they will write sorties about you, but they will be remembered too by their family, by people who knew them and loved them. Would you not like your sword well taken care of after you die? It has protected you through so much, just like their bodies; protected and carried them throughout their whole life. I will bury them."

_Velox I will need your help_.

She started ordering what few men were available to help her. With magic and Velox's claws she dug out a deep pit and the soldiers place the men's bodies neatly in the hole. She didn't have anything to say nor did she know what religion they followed. The pit was refilled the same way it was made. She placed a shield on the massive grave. It was exhausting work, but she was glad it was done.

She walked over to the carriage where Murtagh busied himself. The windows were no bared up, curious Evelyn walked close up to the window and looked in. There sitting in the darkness of carriage was a figure of a slumped man, not the man who was killed by a crossbow arrow, she buried him, but someone else, he was cuffed. He was familiar.

"Roran?"

He looked up, and squinted at the sunlight. He didn't say anything, but he didn't need to.

"Damn it." She said and bit her lip in a mixture of disappointment and anger.

Murtagh sent off two weak men to relay a message to the Varden telling them we have captured Roran. Eragon's cousin…Murtagh's cousin.

Did Murtagh know?

Aha I know this is short but better than nothing right?

Im reading "**Alagaesia's Legacy" by ****Marauder no. Five. **It's the same sort of idea as mine but Marauder's character is aware of Eragon since she (character has read the book before) where mine as no clue who anyone is. So it's a cool difference.

If you like this plot idea go check Maraduer's story out!

Id love to hear your opinions and comments. Gives me ideas!:)


	15. To Get a Book

Chapter 15: To Get a book

She let her head hang grimly, she couldn't look at him. Not after he looked at her with a pained face stricken with confused hatred. A pained apology nearly fell from her mouth, but even as silent as it would be she stopped herself. It was risky for both herself and Roran. Oh, how she wanted to comfort him. She wished she could have diverted the chain of events so that he would not have landed her in Murtagh's custody.

Her regret played off well as coldness. Murtagh confused this with coldness to him for ignoring her request to bury the fallen soldiers—Imperial and Rebel alike. He shouldn't have to give his reasons to her, he didn't owe them to her, but why did he want to? Constantly he's been wanting to explain himself to her. _He shouldn't have to!_

If he was in their place the Rebels would not likely treat his body kindly. In fact they were more likely to humiliate it, parade the disfigured flesh around the streets and drinking halls of the Varden.

Galbatorix was happy with his quarry. Roran was a weak and battered man, but like his cousin kept high spirits. He was chained around the neck and his limbs, held down forcefully by armed hulky guards. Galbatorix stepped down off the throne and walked to Roran's flaccid body. With a cruel angled smile he said, "Perfect. This could not have gone anymore by plan. No better outcome," he leaned into Roran's face, lifting it up by the tug of his hair, "I asked for men, and I get a leader. Men are just numbers, easily forgotten and replaced, but you, you _are_ _actually_ valuable. I sense you are _particularly_close with the Dragon Rider." He shot Murtagh a look from his lowered eyes. Evelyn hoped he had not noticed, " You will be missed won't you? Enough to be rescued?" Galbatorix turned back to his throne and threw is hand towards the door. The guards linked arms with Roran's and dragged him slowly away. Galbatorix took his seat, "Now, now. We don't have to humiliate the boy. He can walk on his own to his cell."

Roran stumbled at first. Evelyn couldn't bear to look at him, not like this. She looked slightly to the side, her face still in the direction following Roran and her jaw clenched; this was all she could do to fight the urge to help carry his weight.

Galbatorix stopped instructing her and Murtagh—with no reason. It was strange but that feeling soon passed and was replaced with a pleasant relief. No more pain and Galbatorix did strike fear right to her, which she knew slowed her reactions. Still with fear. But other than that she did not put too much thought on the subject. Her mind was full and torn, elsewhere.

Roran. She needed to get to Angela. By now word has probably made its way to the Varden or is, at the very least, at its doorstep. She needed to get to someone, somehow, and let them know he is still alive—at the very least, not that that would do anything, or actually comfort anyone's mind. But still, she had to do something. She couldn't stop thinking about his wife and his daughter.

Evelyn hadn't seen Roran in two days, or heard anything of him. She argued with herself to visit him, but knew it would be wrong, too risky. And she wasn't sure how he'd take her. She wasn't sure if he even knew if she was on his side. If he did that could be bad, he might divulge that to his torturers, no doubt in her mind he was being tortured, and she would be taken with no warning, and he if didn't, he wouldn't trust her.

_Ugh there is never an easy way anymore! I don't even know what is right either! _She screamed in her mind.

It was a beautiful day, so she used that to her advantage. She went… _shopping_. Shopping for Angela that is. Marcus unfortunately bumped into her on her way out and insisted that he join her and her accompanying guards. She didn't dare refuse because she knew he'd push his insistence even more and that would arouse suspicions and frankly there was too much at risk.

Marcus was sweet and under normal, casual circumstances she would have loved to out in town with him, she would even go ask him, which has very informal and impolite for a woman. But this was not then, but she tried her best to keep her cool.

Marcus stopped at one shop to admire a silver embedded bridal and barter with the shopkeeper and the guard, who happened to be thinking with his head between his legs and not the one on his shoulders, was distracted by a couple of pretty girls that passed by.

Evelyn waited outside the shop and admired the horses. An old man, walking down the street, banged into her and nearly knocking her over, as well as himself. "Oh my god!" she let out when she saw him falling.

"Oh my, oh dear," the old man said to himself. He voice was clear and sane sounding giving a hint he was ripe with good age.

"I am so sorry, I shouldn't have been in the middle of the road," she said as she helped sturdy him.

"No, no, it was my fault alone milady. I should be watching where I am going—I'm going crazy with age!" the old man still held on tightly to her, not yet sturdy. He laughing clearly and smiled at her, his clear blue eyes disappearing behind the wrinkles of his face.

He nodded his thanks and continued on his way in a light jaunt, his long fine white beard swayed side to side against the motion of his walk. Evelyn watched briefly to make sure he was okay until he melted into the blur of the fast paced market street.

She moved into the shop where Marcus was. Her head ached a little and she pressed her temple to ease the slight pain.

"It is done," the old man smiled to himself as he walked away, lost to the crowd.

"Milady you do not look well. Should we return?" Marcus asked and put a hand lightly on her arm.

Evelyn looked up at him, "No, I think I'm just hungry, that's all."

He suggested we eat at the castle, but Evelyn was here on a job. She needed to go to that tavern. Angela's tavern. Marcus was clearly uneasy with the idea of eating at a public, lowly tavern. He would be sharing a table with men who shoveled horse crap and slept on a bed of coarse hay. But he did not complain.

Again Angela's sign was not up. Evelyn surveyed the smoky room, but saw nothing that might be a slight hint of her.

They ate in the corner, but didn't talk. Marcus was unhappy and only had negative things to say of the place, so said nothing at all. Evelyn was suffering from a slight headache and with no advils to help, and she was frustrated with Angela not being there.

Back in her room, Evelyn sat her wicker basket on the table and emptied it. She pulled her shawl out of it and tangled within the shawl fell a small book. She didn't buy it she remembered because she didn't buy anything that day.

She picked it up and felt in her hand. The weight of it, the groves in the black leather, the thinness of the gentle paper and its rounded edges, it had no binding and no inscription and was about the size of her hand.

But where did it come from? She flipped it open and flipped through some pages. Nothing. Nothing she could read anyway. It wasn't even in Elvish. The paper felt like nothing she's felt here in this world. All the paper here was thick.

_What is this?_

_I do not know. But I get this feeling…_

_Me too. _Evelyn paused_. Do you think it came from that man? The one I bumped into at the market? _

_You think he snuck that into your basket?_

_Yes. I don't remember any other opportunity someone else could have had to put it there._

_It's farfetched…but maybe._

Evelyn held it open to the first page. Wait _here's something._ Written in the reddest of ink and done with skilled penmanship were three words. _Domia abr Wyrda._

_It's Elvish. Dominance of Fate? _ Velox added, _I think Evelyn; you should keep this a secret. _

_Yes. _She closed the book and crossed her room_. No I agree, but what do you think it is? What does it mean? _She hid the book alongside her mask, in the folds of her clothes.

_I do not know little one, _he said simply_._

She shook her head frustrated more.

…

"Well Asteria, if you want the dress, you can have it."

Murtagh knocked on the half open door and Tilda greeted him and brought him into the room. Judging by the worrisome look on her face, something troublesome happened, or was happening. When he entered the room he saw piles of clothes poured on the floor, on her bed, on the couch. Dresses, pants, tunics-undergarments—of every colour and cut. Murtagh lightly raised an eyebrow at the scene. Evelyn was standing in front of an open closet with a light blue dress draped in her arms.

"I don't even wear it anymore."

"It doesn't fit me!" Asteria replied to Evelyn in her shrilly voice. "Ah Lord Morzansson." Her demeanaure changed suddenly to a cool lady like one.

"Ah, hey Murtagh." Evelyn said casually in her strange talk Murtagh thought. Asteria slid a look out of the corner of her face at Evelyn for calling him by his first name.

Asteria cleared her thought and regained poise, in a flirty manner, and spoke in a hotly tone. "Lady Evelyn is throwing out all her dresses."

Evelyn sighed and rolled her shoulders and directed her words at Asteria, to whom they were meant for, not Murtagh and defended her intentions, "that's not what I said. I don't need them and they don't look right on me. I'm giving them away to those who have a use for them, to merchants who can sell them. They are doing little else but collecting dust in my closet and I feel awful because they are beautiful clothes. It's a shame to keep them locked up, but you are more than welcome to take some. Really I'm begging you to."

"They don't fit! You have no figure." She looked right at Murtagh when she said that.

"Ugh! Then get them altered!" The ride rolled her eyes in annoyance.

"No," she pouted and moved to the bed and picked at the fabric of those dresses in discontent.

Evelyn turned her attention to Murtagh and placed the blue dress on the back on a chair and pulled her bangs back out of her eyes. "What's up?" she asked him.

Murtagh was briefly caught by her strange language but ignored that and carried on with what he had to say. They moved over to the far side of her room, with their backs to Asteria. When she realized she wasn't wanted and would be ignored she picked herself up off the bed and left the room, taking the blue dress with her.

"We are to go to Feinster, where the Varden is hiding. Thorn and Velox will not be accompanying us on this voyage."

"What's in Feinster?" Velox not being there made her uneasy, especially after last time and from what she could, she could tell he didn't like it either.

"We are going to spy on them. Galbatorix is bothered by their lack of movement. He feels they have been too silent and too still for too long and he has grown suspicious."

_That's a little vague… I don't like it. _

_Neither do I. I will keep as close a watch as I can for as long as I can. _Velox said with a sturdy voice. He meant her but also Galbatorix.

"We leave within two hours."

"What?" She hand gestured to around her room, "But I just made this mess! Ugh! Fine, "she threw her hands up in the air and started to pick up all her clothes and shoved them into her closet, not bothering to hang them. "Ridiculous," she muttered.

She ran around her room and grabbed clothes and stuffed them, not very neatly into her saddle bag. Before Evelyn left her room she made a last minute survey of it and her lavatory. She stopped when her sight landed on the dark chest off to the side. Evelyn closed the door guardedly behind her and knelt down to open it the heavy lid. It was full to the brim with blankets but deep underneath, hidden within the folds was something. She removed the blankets and with a gentle hand lifted out her mask.

She waited for a moment, to see if her better judgment would convince her not to bring it. This whole charade was getting dangerous.

But she gave in. with a fast hand she put the mask deep inside her bag. Then her eyes came to rest on the black book. That mysterious book. Her hand reached for it but quickly changed its course and shut the lid down.

They traveled by horse and by horse only. This was the second time Galbatorix separated Evelyn and Velox and their mind could only connect up to a certain distance. She didn't like this. Something was wrong, other than the obvious.

Murtagh led the way, the first stop was Dras-Leona. He seemed to have an excellent sense of travel; where to go, how to get there. He kept them at a safe distance from the beaten road that crossed from Uru'bean to Dras-Leona, but this made little difference, he knew his way, knew it well.

It was a smooth entrance into Dras-Leona. Dras-Leona was nothing like Uru'bean which was at one time an elf city and still regained some of its roots despite being overrun by humans. Nor was it like Teirm which was neatly laid out for defensive purposes. No, Dras-Leona was a messy, busy, dirty city witch ramshackle, top heavy buildings made of coarse brown wood.

This was a purely human city but had little defense. Every time the city was burnt to the ground it was simply rebuilt with little care, on top the old unstable ashes.

"Stay near me, be careful. This is the most dangerous city in the Empire…Galbatorix won't be to kind to the man who lost one of his dragon rider." Murtagh said in a hushed tone.

The city held a strange chaotic sort of beauty. If it weren't for her horse Evelyn would be most likely be tripping over everything and her own feet because she was staring at the sights around her, and be tripped over.

The center of the city was blocked off, encircled by a dirty yellow mud wall. It was about the height of three men. The gate was made of thick wood timbers, it was a fragile thing but it did the job of separating the public. But today the wall's gate was open.

On the inside of the gate only loomed one thing, no building surpassed it. It was a huge dark cathedral with tall dark spires that jutted crudely out of the sides.

In front of the gate was a huge crowd with all types of people; the peasants, farmers and general workpeople were farther in the back and the rich and noble were closer to the thing of interest. The thing of interest being a pedestal and on top it were five men, four of them were dressed in dark cloaks tied at the waist with gold rope and the other man in deep red with layers, all tied with a gold rope.

Their fashion wasn't what caught her eye so much as their bodies. The middle man had no hood over his head so his baldness was clear to see, and it is only a speculation that the other men were bald as well, but all over his head were deep red cuts and lashes, some brand new, others starting to scar. The cuts and scars ran all done his neck and face and his ears were gone. Evelyn had a cold shutter; he was not born that way, they were cut off. What should have been his ears were scar white fleshy bumps around the remaining ear hole.

"It so decreed in the book bequeath to us mere mortals form the depths of the great rock that which hath sprung our idol Helgrind, the Book of Tosk, a payment in good flesh is demanded…One young, honest life for the fortune of the prosperity of the city. "

"What the—" Evelyn murmured to herself and pulled the reins to turn her horse back. This didn't go unnoticed to the ever aware Murtagh, who immediately directed his own horse after Evelyn, who had headed towards the pedestal, and by now practically in the crowd. He did not call after her and she didn't bother to look behind her, but silently followed her, and she was easily enough to see sitting atop her horse.

A young girl was brought up onto the pedestal. She was just in her teens, sobbing loudly as she faced the crowd.

"This is the choice you choose to place the weight of the city on?" Cried the bald man to the crowd. Evelyn's stomach lurched when she saw the lack of fingers on his scared hand. The crowd shouted, most in agreement but it was heavy with its loss. It seemed this man took too much pleasure in this and only a hand few in the crowd did as well.

_Sacrifices. _ Evelyn, forced herself to give it a name. Her heart fell at the thought of it. She could stop this couldn't she? She had the power to walk up there and release those people from whatever barbaric idea had them up there. Galbatorix surely wouldn't care, she has never seen or heard of anything he has done for the people, only his army.

She leaned forward into her saddle just about to urge the horse forward when a hand came in front of her. It was covered in a leather arm guard that came over the top of the hand. She traced the hand to the arm to the body, Murtagh. She hadn't seen him sneak up on her.

He shook his head lightly. She frowned and pursed her lips, as if to say something but ultimately chose not to. Her eyes dashed to the pedestal, then to him, to the pedestal and back. There was conflict all over her face.

He motioned her to follow him and he turned his horse. She followed him though the crowds of the city until they stopped at pub on the farther end of the city. There they attached their two horses to a topless wooden carriage. It was filled with boxes of food, blankets, pottery clothing, and a wooden broom among other various house hold items.

Evelyn climbed up into the front of the carriage, beside Murtagh, and slouched into an awkwardly comfortable position. Murtagh took hold of the riens and directed their horses out of the city.

Once they reached a safe distance from the city walls, Murtagh spoke,"When we arrive at Feinster they will ask questions. Our story is; you are my wife and—"

Evelyn nearly choked on air. "Aren't we kinda young?"

"We're newlyweds, fine?"

"Fine." And she crossed her arms.

"We are fleeing from Furnost, north of Tüdosten Lake, for our safety and our child's."

"_Excuse me?" _ She quickly leaned up from her slouch at his words.

"The Varden are soft, it would be terrible for them to refuse sanctuary to a family in need. As I said we're from Furnost and are heading to your cousin in the Surdian city of Dauth**. **We fear the Empire will enlist me into war and we brought little possessions." He pointed at the carriage, making sense of what was in it.

"Boy, you thought of everything. I'm glad you took the liberty of exploiting the fact of me being a woman. " She looked up at him from the corner of her eye to see his reaction.

He wasn't looking in her direction, he parted his mouth to say something but he stopped and sighed and his eyes fell ever so slightly and briefly. It was barely audible, the sigh, but she could tell by the motion his shoulders and the way his chest fell.

Evelyn squinted her eyes, _unsure_. She had never seen that before, on him that is. She looked away and sat back into her seat, she felt intrusive.

"They will search us, so before we get there we must tie out swords and anything that might give us away underneath the carriage and turn it invisible."

"Sounds fine to me, I suppose." She said half absent mindedly. "Just don't muck up right?" She rested her chin on the side of the carriage and looked out at the passing landscape. They rode along the Leona Lake and after seeing mostly the same scenery and having little to do, she fell asleep.

He hardly noticed she fell asleep. He noticed the silence, but not the exact moment when she fell asleep. He was trying not to pay so much attention to her. He looked over his shoulder at her; she was resting her head in the crease of her elbow on the rail of the carriage.

Occasionally she would rock side to side when the carriage went over a bump, but he was careful to avoid those.

_Just don't muck it up._ That was the last thing she said, _muck it up._

The context made sense, vaguely, but he still made the connection. It wasn't the only odd word or sentence he's heard from her. What is a car, for instance, or a tv? He paid little to no attention to her before but now, now she was there and it was unavoidable.

He glanced at her again, she was strange. No woman in court acted like her. She was a Dragon Rider, she's not supposed to act like a lady of court but even if a lady was anointed a Rider, they would find it hard to take on the new behavior but she just acted as she is. She is blunt and insists she wear pants, she is the only woman he has seen wear pants casually and to fight. That elf wore leather pants but that Varden girl, Nasuada, she wore a dress.

He wanted to rebut her today but couldn't, or didn't, whichever one in the end he did not. He always wanted or thought he should, but he never really does.

He grunted and urged the horses forward faster. _This is stupid._

It was getting close to sunset, there was just that last bit of warm colour in the sky, and the two had to set up camp for the night.

Murtagh pitched the shabby tent propped up by the side of the carriage, while Evelyn unleashed the horses took them to the nearby stream for a drink, walk and food. While the horses ate, she took that time to wash her hair and her face with Tilda's cleaning lotions, they smelt nice and seemed to do the job.

When she got back she tied the horses to a long line and sat by the dim fire, across from Murtagh.

She picked up some bread and cheese and ate it for supper. Murtagh offered her a piece of meat that he cooked but refused without insulting his cooking.

"Did the _elves_ teach you that?" he asked with a hit of contempt.

"Elves?" She swallowed her food, "teach me what?"

"Not to eat meat."

"What? No!"she said, a little insulted both for herself and the elves. "I don't eat meat because I don't want to get sick. I'm not from here and your food, particularly your meat, could be hazardous to my health. I'm sure it tastes great and all; it's just that I don't really want to get sick. Has nothing to do with the elves, I spent very little time with them."

She looked back into the fire and took a bite of cheese.

"Until I took you away." His face was as monotone as his voice, but there was a hint of gloom to it.

"Until you took me away," she repeated and confirmed. She took another bite, swallowed and started a new conversation, wanting thoughts of that day out of her head. Normally she would gloat at him, but there was that something in his voice that came across as pain. "What were those men doing in Dras-Leona?"

"On the pedestal?"

"Yes."

"They are acolytes. Each month their _god_ requires a payment of, of flesh." He hesitated the last part.

"A human sacrifice?" She breathed unbelieving, but she already knew. "What religion? Galbatorix wouldn't allow that."

Murtagh chuckled at her ignorance. "During the Rider's time that religion was barely an underground cult, human sacrifices were illegal, and there was another religion that held power, a kinder one of course. But when Galbatorix took power that religion was a threat to his throne so he destroyed them and actually encouraged this one. More beneficial to his reign, I suppose."

"That's disgusting. Why didn't you let me stop them?"

"You would have been arrested," he answered back, "weren't you listening? It would have been an insult on Galbatorix and you would have been arrested and I don't know exactly what would happen after that. Galbatorix would not be happy and that alone is demise leading."

She grunted and finished her food. She was mad at herself for not being able to stop them and save that girl, that girl who was just as nearly as old as her. _How could Galbatorix let this happen, gah! How could it be beneficial? _

She gave up on thinking about it since it only made her more and more angry and was afraid Murtagh might notice.

She crawled in to the tent and went to sleep. It was big enough for the both of them to lie comfortably. In the morning they packed and set out again towards Feinster.

It was nearing the fourth night of their travel when Murtagh pulled the carriage to a stop and got out of his seat. There was nothing around them for miles so her immediate thought was that he needed to pee.

He walked around to the back of the carriage and tossed her a set of old, worn clothes. "Put those on." She did as she was told as he put on his and asked what was going on.

"We're nearing Feinster. We'll most likely be there in an hour, and there will be patrols everywhere as we get closer, this" he pulled on his new set of clothing, "is for in case we get stopped." He pulled out his sword, _"Pass me your sword please."_

She unhooked the belt and leaned over the back of the carriage to hand it to him but as she did it slipped ever so slightly and fell and when the both of them went to go catch it his hand grabbed hold of hers as well as the sword. "I've got it," he said, and set it down besides his, then he shook or stretched his hand slightly like someone would to get rid of that pin-needle feeling. Evelyn shot him a confused look but he did not see it.

He bent down and crawled under and tied the swords and things up then muttered the objects invisible. He crawled out and mounted the seat.

"Next time; be careful." He said, his tone suddenly harsh, as he climbed back into his seat.

It took nearly an hour to reach the gates of Feinster. The guard marched over holding out his sword for protection. "Who are you and what's your purpose?"

"I am Dellen son Leindar and this is my wife Andromeda, we come from Furnost. We seek a place to spend the night, we are heading to Dauth."

"For what reason?"

"My wife's cousin lives in Dauth."

"Purpose in seeing her cousin?"

"I admit, we have grown fearful of the Empire. My wife is pregnant and she fears I will be enlisted into war and has persuaded me to leave."

"You will have to be searched, understood?"

Murtagh nodded his agreement. She looked at his face to see any fear that the swords might be found but he held his innocent and calm act up too well for her to see.

The guards went through all their things, nodded to each other and let them pass.

She held her head low, keeping her face out of sight in her hood. The Varden was here, they were in Varden territory and they were the enemy, but Evelyn didn't feel like the enemy. She almost longed to be caught.

She lifted her head, a pair foot soldiers walked by in a slight cheerful mood, they were off duty but that didn't mean anything. All in one motion she realized she couldn't alert those men.

_Velox_.

He was still at Urû'baen, with Galbatorix. There was no way in a million years she would leave him, they would never be separated, and she wouldn't let that happen. She hated being this far from him now, it wasn't right.

She looked to her side, at Murtagh. He must feel the same about Thorn, right? Or maybe, since they had spent all of their lives together under Galbatorix, perhaps this was normal, that this was the norm for Galbatorix and Murtagh was just used to this.

They pulled in at a small inn on the outskirts of town. Murtagh paid the innkeeper for room and food and once we were settled in he brought up a tray full of food.

It was getting colder at night so Evelyn put on a wool tunic on top her long sleeved shirt and changed from her sad cloth shoes to her leather boots. As she was throwing and moving her clothes around in her bag, Murtagh took off his tunic to change into warmer clothing.

The movement of him bending over to remove the shirt caught her eye. She looked over her shoulder at him and saw his bare back, on it was a long twisting scar that cut a white path from his right shoulder to, if it continued since she couldn't see all of his back, his left hip. He stood up when he realized she was looking at him.

She thought of looking away, embarrassed from being caught looking at his scar, something that must be private, but knew that he had already seen her and it would fruitless to pretend otherwise. She asked exactly what was on her mind, besides if it was so private he wouldn't have changed where there was a prospect of being seen.

"Where did you get that?" she pointed with a nod of her head.

In a flash of a second he looked down at the floor and back up. "It was an sparring accident," he said in his usual stoic manner and pulled his change over his head.

She picked up another article of clothing and threw it into her bag, this time with a little more force. She was annoyed with his plain answer. "I figured that much. I don't think anyone would do that on purpose."With her remark said, he shot her an insulted look but she did not catch it as she was tossing unwanted articles and objects into her bag.

He was stuck there, not sure to explain to her or leave it. If he said it he would have to endure her laments of pity since that is the only thing that can be expected from soft women until they find something else that is new to dote over. But he couldn't help but want to just to see, for that one fickle moment, concern on her face and in her voice. Her brow would angle ever so slightly as if to meet in the middle and her eyes widened and her mouth just barely parted. He knew the face, probably better than she did, he seen it so many times, something so natural and second nature to her was something so unnatural to him, but never directed to him.

He frowned at himself and silently chastised himself for that, he sounded ridiculous. Ridiculous!

She pulled up her collar over her nose to hide her face and crawled out the window following Murtagh. Her sword dragged on the rooftop and made it difficult to crawl around from one ledge to the next. Murtagh had his sword tied to his back; much more practical and thought to herself she needed to get herself one of those. She followed him to the ground and through the city, keeping in the shadows and pressed hard against walls and ducking behind carriages and crates.

They moved silently towards the keep, its courtyard and the field south of it were housing the better part of the Varden. That's where they needed to go. There was no way they could pass into the keep through the south field gate, it would be way to heavily guarded. So instead the pair of them spilt. Murtagh went to the north wall where, between two of the towers, was a blind spot and Evelyn would scour the camp in the field.

Murtagh swung a rope and hook onto the ramparts and climbed the height of the wall. He counted the guards; six of them, two in each tower and two that patrolled the rampart. The better part of the keep had been destroyed in the siege which made maneuvering both easy at times and extremely hard but he was agile and quick.

He scaled a wall to a ledge to make his next decision in direction. He was about to move when a light came on and froze him in place. The window next to him came alight and he pressed himself closer to the wall to hide. He looked around making her no one saw him and made a mental sigh when he was in the clear.

"Katrina hasn't left her room since, and she won't let anyone tend to her…it's been nearly a month Nasuada." Murtagh recognized that voice, it was Eragon's.

"Eragon I know…but I cannot allow it, it is simply too dangerous. If this letter is true, and I believe it is since it has Galbatorix's seal, then Roran is in prison in Uru'bean. The dungeons of Uru'bean are located deep underneath the citadel, deep underground in a maze of tunnels, and we don't even know if that's where he is being kept. Galbatorix may have even changed the citadel years ago. And even if you could get to the prison Galbatorix would be notified the moment you set foot in Uru'bean."

Eragon slumped into a chair and put his head in his hands. "I don't know what to do…" he mumbled, "I'm starting to lose it…hope. Galbatorix is growing stronger and stronger by means that I have no idea of, we haven't finished our training and there isn't a rider or a dragon to train us, I could barely hold off Murtagh and that was with the help of the elves! How am I supposed to defeat Galbatorix? And he has two riders behind him." He looked up at her desperately. "Just these past week eight tunnels in Farthen Dûr collapsed from their nonstop earthquakes, 150 dwarves were killed and the seafaring men of the coast have reported a lax in the pace of the tide. What does this mean?"

A horn blared in the distance, just beyond the south gate. Nasuada rushed to the window, "Intruders?"

"Yes, Saphira tells me they are in the camp,…its Evelyn." He said after a short pause.

Evelyn swung behind a wall and caught her heaving breath. The sounds of armored guards clanged pass her. She dropped her hand and it landed on the hilt of Earth. Stupid sword, that's what gave her away. She pushed away from the wall and ran into what was most likely an unused forge.

_Ugh_, she moaned in her head, _I need to find Angela._

She shoved her hand into one of her pockets and pulled out the feathered mask, ripped off her cloak and put it on. She rolled the cloak up with great speed and shoved it behind a tall cupboard. She unclipped her scabbard and swung it around her shoulder and across her breast and fastened it.

_There, that will just have to do._And she moved around so her sword would fall into place.

She slid out of the back door of the forge into a back alley of tent field. Evelyn glanced around; it was clear and she knew where she was. It was dark, nearly black but fire light became less and less scarce. She ran, stopping at each corner of building or tent, and peered over the edge for danger.

She crouched at the bottom of Angela's tent and lifted the heavy trap and rolled right in and in the swiftest of motion and words she stood up with her hands in the air and said, "Don't shoot! Angela its Evelyn."

Angela stood in her stance for a moment and her awful cat hissed then relaxed and meow'd.

"Hi," Evelyn said nervously with an awkward smile, still breathing hard.

"Oh Evelyn, what a pleasantly awful surprise." She shook her head at Evelyn, but with a soft smile. She pointed towards the door, "Is that you?" Indicating the commotion.

With and exhausted laugh and her hand on her hip Evelyn admitted to it, "But I can't stay long. I must hurry."

Angela shook her head and embraced the small girl. "Oh but you just got here!" She leaned away and held Evelyn's face in her hands, her deep brown eyes were calming and sweet but her face took on a serious worrisome look, "are you okay?"

"Yes." It was a half lie, half truth. "I'm alive and healthy…but I'm so tired, and frustrated."

"Has he hurt you?"

"No."

"You're lying. Evelyn don't lie to me."

"No more than he hurts Murtagh."

"Murtagh is a grown boy."

Evelyn had nothing to respond to that. "I know he's becoming suspicious. He knows, I know he does. It isn't safe for Velox and I."

"Then you must leave. Stay here. You have no allegiance to him, all will be okay."

"No it won't." She closed her eyes, hurt by the mocking of the chance to be free and safe. "Velox is not here, he's still in Uru'bean. I won't leave him, which is why—," she looked at Angela with dark eyes, "I'm going to free Roran."

so re-added this one because i went over it and saw that the end part was just a total mess. Cleaned it up and all is good phew.  
I am working on the next chapter haha ive totally worked out the story and i think it is going to be awesome, i just need to write it haha  
i love questions and comments so be dont be shy

much love


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